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PT 2377.K5E6 1889

Eriach court.

3 1924 026 191 001

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I B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, Philadelphia

ERLACH COUET

TE,Ji.3<TSIjA.TEX) I-HOIM: THE C3-EIlIvI.A.2Sr
OF

OSSIP SCHUBIN

BY

MES. A. li. WISTEE

PHILADELPHIA

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

1889

KS

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Copyright, 1889, by J. B. Lippincott Company.

.1.1 .\\'\ no;)

Y I I 'C H ;■! V 1 W II

YilAil . I.I

^

OOS"TE]SrTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. — Expected Gttests 7

II. — Baron Eoheitz 22

III.— The Akrital 29

IV.— Stella 37

v. — An Expekiment 48

VI. — A EuiNED Life 72

VII.— A Eaint Etbning 95

VIII. — A Love-Aeeaie 101

IX.— EOTTUD 108

X. — Ebeddt's Birthday 117

XI.— CSABBINQ 124

XII.— Disaster 129

XIII.— Idyllic ........ 134

XIV. — A Departure 154

XV.— Scattered 163

XVI.— Zalow 166

XVII.— Winter 173

XVIII.— Sophie Oblonskt 178

XIX.— Paris 186

XX. — THERiisE de Eohritz 197

XXI. — An Austrian Host 205

XXII. — French Inferiority 212

XXIII. — Prince Zing Capito 216

XXIV.— A Music-Lesson 227

XXV. — A New Acquaintance ? . . . . 242

XXVI.— PiTE-o 'clock Tea 249

XXVII.— A Change at Eelach Court . . .262

XXVIII.— A Paris Letter 269

6

6 CONTENTS.

CHAPTGB PAOB

XXIX. — A Stobm and its Consequences . . 277

XXX.— A Sleepless Night 289

XXXI.— Glowing Embeks 295

XXXII.— THERi;sE THE Wise 303

XXXIII.— Stella's Failuke 311

XXXIV.— RoHEiTZ Dreams 321

XXXV".— A Sprained Ankle 325

XXXVI.— Lost Again 330

XXXVII.— The Fanes' Ball 337

XXXVIII.— rouND AT Last 351

ERLACH COURT.

CHAPTER I.

EXPECTED GUESTS.

Erlach Court, — a vine-wreathed castle, not
very imposing, on the Save, — a pleasant dining-
room, with wide-open windows through which
thousands of golden stars are seen twinkling in
the dark blue of a July sky, while the air is laden
with the fragrance of acacia- and linden-blossoms.
Beneath a hanging lamp, around a table whereon
are finger-bowls and the remains of a luxurious
dessert, are grouped six persons, — the master of
the house. Captain von Leskjewitsch, his wife, and
his seven-year-old son and heir, Freddy, a Frau-
lein von Gurlichingen, whose acquaintance Frau
von Leskjewitsch had made twenty years before
and whom she had never since been able to shake
off, and two gentlemen, Baron Rohritz and General
von Falk.

The general is the same youthful veteran whom
we have all met before in some Viennese drawing-

7

8 ERLACH COURT.

room or in some watering-place in Bohemia, — ac-
credited throughout Austria from time immemorial
as excellent company, dreaded as an incorrigible
gossip, and notorious as a thorough idler. He
often boasts that in thirty years he has never once
dined at home ; he might add, nor at his own ex-
pense. He is never positively invited anywhere,
but since he has never been turned out of doors he
is met everywhere. Absolutely free from preju-
dice in his social proclivities, he is equally at home
in aristocratic society and in the world of finance ;
in fact, he rather prefers the latter; the dinners
there are better, he maintains.

In spite of his seventy years, he is still as erect
as a fir-tree, — dressed in the most youthful style, —
occasionally, although with a half-ironical smile,
alludes in conversation to ' us young men,' and
dances at balls with the agility of a boy.

Baron Rohritz, who is scarcely six-and-thirty,
already ranks himself, on the contrary, for the
sake of his personal ease, with the old men. Tall
and slender, with delicate, clearly-cut features,
he is a remarkably distinguished figure, even in
the circle to which he belongs. Although his
moustache is brown, his hair is already very gray,
which women find extremely interesting, especially
since there is said to be some connection between
this premature change of colour and an unfortu-
nate love-affair. The finest thing about his face

EXPECTED GUESTS. 9

is his deep-set blue eyes ; but since lie uses an eye-
glass, is near-sighted, and often nearly closes his
eyes, there is something haughty in his look, which
produces a chilling effect. When he smiles his
expression is very attractive, but he smiles only
rarely, and shows to the best advantage in his
treatment of dogs, horses, and children.

Eraulein von Gurlichingen, commonly called
Stasy, — the diminutive of her baptismal name,
Anastasia, and a play upon her perpetual state of
ecstatic excitement, — is an old maid, who was
once accounted a great beauty, and in conse-
quence is fond of wearing golden bands around
her romantically frizzed curls. Her languishing,
light-blue eyes were once compared to forget-me-
nots sprinkled with sugar, and her complexion is
suggestive of Swedish kid dusted with violet pow-
der. She was young twenty years since, and has
forgotten to stop being so. She once nearly mar-
ried a prince of the blood, and has lately been
jilted by an infantry-officer. She has come to
Erlach Court to recover from this last blow, per-
haps in hopes of eventually obtaining a recom-
pense for the loss of the captain.

Little Freddy is a very pretty, spoiled child, in
a sailor suit, with bare legs very much scratched ;
and the master and mistress of the house are
two genial people, who eight years previously,
both having outlived the bloom of their early

10 ERLACH COURT.

illusions, although she was only six-and-twenty
and the captain thirty, had "patched together their
tattered lives," which means that they had married
each other, not so much in the hope of being
happy themselves, as in that of making two other
fellow-beings miserable.

Although, however, they had thus married for
pique, and though each had brought to the union
nothing save a remnant of unfortunate love for
somebody else, although they quarrelled with each
other continually, they got along together not
much worse than two-thirds of the married people
whose union has been the result of passionate at-
tachment.

All were waiting for the after-dinner coffee,
which the mistress of the mansion, in dread of
spots, never allowed to be served in the drawing-
room, except on state occasions. Its appearance
was unpardonably delayed to-day, and the famous
Erlach Court sociability was beginning to degen-
erate into yawning ennui.

With the exception of Baron Rohritz, who had
been occupied the entire time in gazing with half-
closed eyes into the clouds of blue smoke from his
cigar, all present had done their best to enliven the
prevailing mood: the general had told anecdotes
from the 'Fliegende Blatter,' Freddy had suc-
ceeded in producing a particularly charming noise
by running a wet forefinger around the rims of

EXPECTED QUESTS. H

various wineglasses, Fraulein Stasy had suggested
a poetic comparison between dry storms and the
tearless anguish of a stricken heart, and the mar-
ried pair had squabbled with special earnestness
about the most diverse matters, first about the
potato-rot, then about a problematical constitution
for Poland ; and yet the conversation had failed to
become fluent.

For a few minutes an oppressive silence had
prevailed; the husband and wife, usually equal
to any emergency in this direction, had ceased
even to quarrel. The ticking of the watches was
almost audible, when the servant brought in on a
salver the contents of the post-bag which had just
arrived.

"While the captain hastily opened a newspaper,
that he might read aloud to the nervous Stasy,
with a harrowing attention to details, the latest
cholera bulletins, Frau von Leskjewitsch leisurely,
opened two letters : the first came from a Trieste
tradesman and announced the arrival of a late in-
voice of the best disinfectants, the second appar-
ently contained intelligence of some importance.
After she had read it, Frau von Leskjewitsch laid
it, with a pleased expression, upon the table.

" Children," she exclaimed, — it was a habit of
hers thus to apostrophize people well on in years,
for, except Freddy, who was not yet eight, and the
general, who dyed his hair, all present were more

12 ERLACH COURT.

or less gray-headed, — " children, our circle is about
to receive an addition; my sister-in-law has just
written me that she accepts our invitation and will
arrive here to-morrow or the day after."

" Bravo !" exclaimed the captain, who on hear-
ing this news quite forgot to go on teasing Stasy,
and suppressed three entire cholera-telegrams. " I
shall be delighted to see my little niece."

Freddy said, meditatively, " I should like to know
what my aunt will bring me."

The rest of the party received the joyful tidings
without emotion, partly because the long-looked-for
coffee at that moment made its appearance, and
partly because of the other three Stasy alone had
any personal acquaintance with the Baroness Mei-
neck — as the captain's sister was called — or her
daughter. After the coffee had been cleared away,
and whilst the master and mistress of the house
were arguing outside in the corridor, most uselessly
and most energetically, as to the train by which the
expected guests would arrive, the general, who was
playing his usual evening game of tric-trac with
Eohritz, sighed, —

" Our comfort is all over."

Rohritz raised his eyebrows inquiringly: "Do
you mean that in honour of these fresh guests we
shall be obliged to put on a dress-coat at dinner
every day ?"

" Not exactly that," said the general ; " the ladies

EXPECTED QUESTS. 13

themselves are not too much given to elegance;
but" — the general's face lengthened — " we shall he
obliged to be cautious in our conversation."

Rohritz smiled significantly. "Double sixes!"
he exclaimed, throwing the dice on the green cloth
and moving his men with cunning calculation on
the backgammon-board.

Meanwhile, the garrulous general continued,
without waiting to be questioned: "Leskjewitsch
is patient with his sister, and is excessively fond
of his niece, but, between ourselves," — he chuckled
to himself, — " Leskjewitsch is a fool !"

If anything gave him more satisfaction than to
live at the expense of others, it was to be witty,
or rather malicious, at their expense. Rohritz
thought this bad form, and was silent.

" I do not know the ladies personally,", the general
went on, rubbing his hands, " but for originality" —
here he tapped his forehead with his forefinger —
" neither mother nor daughter is far behind the
captain. The mother is an old blue-stocking, and
has been travelling all over the world for the last
ten years, collecting materials for an historical work
upon the Medicines, or whatever you choose to call
them "

" The Medici, perhaps ?" Rohritz interpolated.

"Yery likely; I only know that there was an
apothecary in the family, and that there were pills
in their scutcheon, and that the worthy Baroness's

2

14 ERLACH COURT.

work is to be eight volumes long," said the gen-
eral.

Stasy, who had been leaning back in a luxurious
arm-chair, moved to tears for the hundredth time
over the last chapter of 'Paul and Virginia,' her
favourite book, — the death of the heroine, she said,
touched her especially because she could so easily
fancy herself in Virginia's place, — now laid her
book aside, since her tears seemed to arouse no
sympathy, and joined in the conversation :

" You are talking of the Meinecks ?"

" Yes. Are you personally acquainted with the
ladies ?" asked the general.

" Yes, — not very intimately, though. I always
held myself a little aloof from them, but last sum-
mer we were at the same country resort, — I was
with a sick friend at Zalow, — and I saw something
and heard a great deal of the Meinecks."

" And are all the strange things that are said of
them true ?" asked the general.

" I really do not know what is said of them,"
replied Stasy, " but it certainly would be difficult to
exaggerate their peculiarities. The Baroness, un-
fortunately too late in life, has arrived at the con-
clusion that the continuance of the human species
is a crime. One of her manias consists in giving
a tort et a travers, wherever she may chance to be,
short lectures, gratis, upon the American Shakers
and their system. But, with all her zeal, she has

EXPECTED GUESTS. 15

hitherto succeeded in making but few proselytes.
Even her elder daughter, who was for some years
a fanatical adherent of her mother's doctrines, lately
married an artillery-officer. Stella, the younger
sister, whose acquaintance you are to make, dis-
likes having a brother-in-law in the artillery. The
Baroness's distaste was not for the quality of her
son-in-law, but for marriage itself She appeared
at the wedding in deep mourning, and but for the
remonstrances of her relatives the invitations to the
ceremony would have been engraved upon black-
edged paper, like notices of a funeral."

" Ah ! And the second daughter, — -hm — I mean
the one expected here ?"

" She will not hear of marriage, and is studying
for the stage."

" Indeed ?" said Baron Rohritz.

The general moved a little nearer him, and, .with
a mischievous twinkle of his green eyes, whispered,
"Between ourselves, I would not trust any girl
under sixty — he-he-he ! — in the matter of marriage.
This Stella is hardly an exception; she probably
imagines she can make a very good match from
the stage — he-he!"

Eohritz shrugged his shoulders.

Stasy continued : " I really am sorry for Stella :
under other circumstances she might have been
very nice, but as it is she is dreadful. Two years
ago she had a craze for horsemanship : she used to

16 ERLACH COURT.

tear about for hours every day upon an Englisli
blood-horse which she had bought for a mere song
because it was blind of one eye. Since the Meineck
finances did not, of course, warrant a groom, and
the Meineck arrogance could not accept the at-
tendance of any one of the young men of the
place, — and I know from the best authority that
several kindly oifered themselves as her escort, —
she rode alone, and in a habit — good heavens ! —
patched up by herself out of an old blue cloth
sofa-covering, — just fancy ! One day the Baroness
was more than commonly in need of money, —
perhaps to publish a new volume of history or to
repair a tumble-down chimney, — who knows ? — at
all events the horse was sold to a farmer in the
neighbourhood. Stella cried for a week over her
loss. ITow the horse is quite blind, and draws
an ash-cart; and when the little goose sees him
she kisses his forehead."

" Ah ! hesoin d'aimer !" chuckled the general.
"Hm— hm!"

" Three times a week she goes to Prague, — of
course without any chaperon, — and takes singing-
lessons from a long-haired music-master who pre-
dicts for her a career like Alboni's. Heaven knows
what will be the end of it. The Meineck tem-
perament is sure sooner or later to show itself
in the child. Her father's mode of life scanda-
lized eten his comrades, and her aunt surely

EXPECTED GUESTS. 17

you know about Eugenie von Meineck, the captain's
old flame "

She stopped short, for at this moment the cap-
tain himself entered the room, and, turning to
ErOhritz, said, " I'm glad, old fellow, that your
stay in Erlach Court is to be brightened up a
little."

" I assure you that no change is needed to make
my visit to you most agreeable," Rohritz rejoined,
courteously.

The captain bowed: "Nevertheless you cannot
deny that your pleasure may be increased, and you
are still young enough to enjoy the society of a
pretty and clever girl."

liohritz bit his lip; he had a very decided,
although quite excusable, dislike for what are
called clever young women. Stasy turned up her
nose.

" Do you think the little Meineck clever — mais
vraimmt clever, spiritueUe ?" she asked.

" She is full of bright, merry ideas, and what a
pretty girl says is apt to sound well," the captain
replied, dryly.

"Do you think her pretty?" Stasy drawled; she
never could make up her mind to call any girl
pretty.

"Pretty? She is charming, bewitching!" the
captain declared, in an angry crescendo.

Just then his wife appeared, much provoked
t 2*

18 ERLACH COURT.

at some particularly shocking misdeed on the part
of the maid to whom had been intrusted the ar-
rangement of the guest-chambers, and she asked,
" What is the matter ?"

" A difference of opinion with regard to your
niece Stella, Katrine dear," Anastasia said, sweetly,
leaning back with a languishing air among the
cushions of her arm-chair and touching her finger-
tips together. " Your husband thinks her so very
beautiful."

" Oh, my husband always exaggerates," Frau
von Leskjewitsch remarks.

" I never said very beautiful ; I did not even
say beautiful : I simply said charming," the captain
shouts.

" She is pretty. There is something very attrac-
tive about her," his wife assents, " and my hus-
band finds her especially charming because she
looks like his old flame, Eugenie Meineck. For
my part, this resemblance is the only thing about
Stella that I do not like. I am sorry that even in
her features alone she should remind one of her
aunt."

" A rather indelicate allusion on your part,"
growls the captain, whose brown cheeks had
flushed at his wife's words.

As his wife always declared, he had never got
out of roundabouts, which suited him but ill, for
he was an unusually tall, broad-shouldered man,

EXPECTED GUESTS. 19

with very handsome, clear-cut features, and a face
tanned and worn by war, wind and weather, but
recognizable as far as it could be seen as that of a
southern Slav.

" Extremely indelicate," he repeats, with em-
phasis.

"I think it ridiculous never to outlive disap-
pointments," says Trau von Leskjewitsch, who
ever since she was a girl of eighteen had assumed
the air of a matron of vast worldly experience,
— " extremely ridiculous," she adds, with comic
mimicry of her husband's reproachful intonation.
As she spoke she slightly threw back her head
crowned with luxuriant hair gathered into a sim-
ple knot behind, half closed her eyes, and stuck one
thumb in the buff leather belt that confined her
dark-blue linen blouse at the waist. Baron
Rohritz, an experienced connoisseur of the female
sex, had stuck his eye-glass in his eye, and was
gazing at her without a shadow of impertinent ob-
trusiveness, but with very evident interest. With-
out being handsome, or taking the slightest pains
to appear so, she nevertheless produced a most
agreeable impression. According to the Baron's
computation, she was about thirty-four years old,
and yet her tall slender figure had all the pliancy
of early youth. Her every motion was character-
ized by a certain energy and determination that pos-
sessed an attraction in spite of being foreign to the

20 ERLACH COURT.

generally received opinion as to what constitutes
feminine grace. The eyes, shadowed by long
black lashes, that looked forth from her pale, oval
face were full of intelligence and constantly vary-
ing expression, her features were fine but not regu-
lar, and her laugh was charming.

"Yes," she repeated, "I insist upon it, there is
nothing more ridiculous than the inability to have
done with one's disappointments. Good heavens !
I freely confess to myself, and to the world at large,
that the worthy man with whom I was wretchedly
in love for four years was one of the vainest, most
insignificant, most egotistical and uninteresting
geese that ever lived."

" You were not in love with him," declared the
captain, who did not seem to be quite free from a
certain retrospective jealousy. " You were simply
under the domination of an idiefixe."

" As if the passion of love were ever anything
save an idee fixe of the heart!" retorted Frau von
Leskjewitsch ; " and an id&e fixe is a disease ; while
it lasts it is well to be patient with it, but when it
is over one ought to thank Grod and get rid of the
traces of it as quickly as possible. That you never
did, Jack : you were always like the belles of so-
ciety, who cannot make up their minds to burn
up their old ball-dresses and other trophies or
simply to throw them away. They stuflC their
trunks full of such rubbish, until there is no room

EXPECTED GUESTS. 21

left for their honest every-day clothes. Throw it
away, and the sooner the better !"

" What has once been dear to me is forever
sacred in my eyes," said the captain, solemnly.

"Yes, and consequently you drag about with
you through life such a heap of old, dusty, bat-
tered illusions that I really cannot see where you
find the strength to hold fast to one healthy vital
sensation. Bah ! painful as it is, one must bury
one's dead in time!"

" I prefer to embalm mine," the captain rejoined,
with dignity.

" Let me congratulate you upon your collection
of mummies," said his wife.

" You have no capacity for veneration," the cap-
tain declared. ^

"Because I disapprove of whining ad infinitum ^
as homage to a vanished enthusiasm, — ridiculous !"
said Katrine.

" Don't quarrel, my doves !" Stasy entreated,
clasping her hands after a child-like fashion.

"We have no idea of doing so," the mistress
of the house replied, good-humouredly. " We
never quarrel. Our complaint is a chronic differ-
ence of opinion. What were we really talking
about?" '

" About illusions," remarked Baron Rohritz.

" Oh, that was merely a side-issue, — only an
after-piece," said Fran von Leskjewitsch, bethink-

22 ERLAGH COURT.

ing herself. " What was the starting-point of our
discussion? — Oh, yes: we were speaking of my
little niece."

" Perhaps you can show us a photograph of her,"
said Anastasia.

"Yes, yes." And Frau von Leskjewitsch be-
gan an eager search in a small gilt cottage which
had once been a bonbonnifere and now served as a
receptacle for photographs. In vain. Upon a
closer examination several of the photographs
were found to be missing. Little Freddy con-
fessed with a repentant face that he had cut them
up to make winders for twine. His mother
laughed, kissed his sleepy, troubled eyes, and sent
him to bed. Thus Baron Eohritz was left to draw
from fancy a possible likeness of Stella Meineck.

CHAPTER II.

BARON ROHKITZ.

Stast had vented so much malice upon Stella
that Eohritz had involuntarily begun to* think well
of her. After he had retired, in the watches of the
night, and was trying in vain to be interested in a
volume of Tauchnitz, his thoughts were still busied

BARON ROHRITZ. 23

with her. " Poor thing," he reflected, " there must
be something attractive about her, or Les and his
wife would not be so devoted to her. And, after
all, what did that venomous old maid's accusations
amount to? — that she has an antipathy for artil-
lery-officers," — Rohritz as a former cavalry-man
shrugged his shoulders indulgently at this weak-
ness, — " and that she wants to go upon the stage.
That, to be sure, is bad. I know nothing in the
world more repulsive than girls of what are called
the better classes who are studying for the stage."

And Rohritz recalled a certain officer's daughter
whom he had once met at an evening entertain-
ment, and who in proof of her distinguished talent
had declaimed various ' selections.' He had been
quite unable to detect her talent, and had spoken
of her contemptuously as afi hysterical tree-frog.
The appellation had met with acceptance and had
been frequently repeated.

The remembrance of the officer's bony daugh-
ter lay heavy on his soul. " Yes, if Stella should
remind me in the least of that hysterical tree-frog,
I really could not stay here much longer," he
thought, with a shudder. "And in any case I
cannot but regret these last pleasant days. That
old dandy and the faded beauty were bad enough,
but they could be ignored ; while a young girl —

and a relative, too, of the family Pshaw ! at

all events I can take my leave."

24 ERLACH COURT.

"With which he put out his candle and went to
bed.

"What it was that was dear to him in the sleepy
and very uninteresting life at Erlach Court it
would be difficult to say. Perhaps he prized it as
chiming in so admirably with the precious ennui
which he had brought -home from America ten
years previously, and which had since been his in-
separable companion. It was such a finished, ele-
gant ennui ; it never yawned and looked about for
amusement, never in fact felt the least desire for
it, but looked down in self-satisfied superiority
upon those childish mortals who were actually
capable of being irritated or entertained upon this
old exhausted globe.

He was proud of this kind of moral ossification,
which was gradually paralyzing all his really noble
qualities.

" 'Tis a pity !" said Leskjewitsch, whose youth
was still warm in his veins, and who declared that
he had never been bored for half an hour in his
life, except upon a pitch-dark night in winter at
some lonely outpost when he had been delayed on
the march ; and although the honest captain was a
demi-savage and " still in roundabouts," we can-
not help repeating his words with reference to
Rohritz, " 'Tis a pity !"

Yes, a pity ! Who that saw Edgar von Eohritz
— his mother had bestowed upon him his melo-

BARON ROMRITZ. 25

dramatic name in a fit of enthusiasm for Walter
Scott and Donizetti, — who that saw him to-day
could believe that in his youth, under a thin dis-
guise of aristocratic nonchalance, he was far more
sentimentally inclined than his former comrade
Leskjewitsch ? But sentiment had fared ill with
him. After having overcome, not without a hard
struggle, the pain of a very bitter disappointment,
his demands upon existence were of the most
moderate description, and this partly to spare him-
self useless pain and partly from caution lest
he should make himself ridiculous. He kept his
heart closely shut ; and if at times sentiment, now
fallen into disgrace with him, softly appealed to it,
entreating admission, he refused to listen. He was
no longer at home for sentiment.

About twenty years since he had begun his mili-
tary career in the same regiment of dragoons
with Jack Leskjewitsch, and when hardly five-and-
twenty he had left the service and travelled round
the world, perhaps because change of air is as
beneficial for diseases of the heart as for other
maladies.

For years now he had made his home in Gratz,
whence he took frequent flights to Vienna. He
was but moderately addicted to society, so called.
He never danced; at balls he played whist, and
dryly criticised the figures and the toilettes of the
dancers. He had the reputation of being a

26 ERLACH COURT.

woman-hater, and accordingly all the young mar-
ried women thought him excessively interesting.
He was held to be one of the best matches in
Gratz, wherefore he was exposed to persecution
by all mothers blest with marriageable daughters.

Wearied of this varied homage, he had gradu-
ally withdrawn from society, and had even re-
linquished his game of Boston, when one day a
report was circulated that he had suddenly lost al-
most all his property through the negligence of an
agent. All that was left him — so it was said — was
a mere pittance. Since he never contradicted
this report, it was thought to be confirmed. The
mothers of marriageable daughters discovered that
he had a disagreeable disposition, and that it
would be very difficult to live with him. One
week after this sad report had been in circulation,
he observed with a peculiar smile that during this
space of time he had received at least half a dozen
fewer invitations to dinners and balls than usual.
Shortly afterwards meeting a friend in the street
who offered him his sincere condolence, he replied,
with a twirl of his moustache, —

"Do not trouble yourself about me: I assure
you that it is sometimes very comfortable to be
poor !"

The news of his sadly-altered circumstances pen-
etrated even to the secluded Erlach Court, and
Captain Leskjewitsch, who learned it from a casual

BARON ROHBITZ. 27

mention of it in a postscript to a letter from a
comrade, was exceedingly agitated by it. He ran
to his wife with the open letter in his hand, ex-
claiming, "Ah 9^1, Katrine, read that. Rohritz
has lost every penny ! Under such circumstances
he must need entire change of scene for a time.
We must invite him here immediately, — ^imme-
diately, — that is, if you have no objection."

For a wonder, the quarrelsome couple were per-
fectly at one on this point.

" I shall be delighted to see him," replied Katrine.
" Invite him at once ; that is, if you are not afraid
of his making love to me."

The captain's face took on an odd expression.
" There is no danger of your allowing a stranger
to make love to you," he muttered. "Your dis-
agreeable characteristic is that you vnll not allow
even me to make love to you."

Katrine raised her eyebrows : " I have an aver-
sion for rechauffees."

The captain took instant advantage of his oppor-
tunity : " You certainly cannot expect to be the
first woman who I — hm! — thought had fine eyes?"

But Katrine was very busy with her household
accounts, and consequently she had no time at
present to indulge in her favourite amusement, a
lively discussion.

"Don't agitate yourself, my dear," she rejoined,
"but go and write a beautiful letter to Rohi-itz;

28 ERLACH COURT.

and do it quickly, that it may go by to-day's post.
Shall I compose it for you ?"

" Thanks, I think I am equal to that myself,"
the captain replied, with a laugh. "IJpon my
word, a poor dragoon has to put up with a deal
from so cultivated a woman."

As he turned to go, Katrine called after him :
"I warn you beforehand that I have a weakness
for Rohritz. All the rest is your affair. I wash
my hands of it."

Nothing so aroused Katrine Leskjewitsch's sar-
casm as the problematical conscientiousness of
those young wives who combine a decided love for
flirtation with a determination to cast all the blame
for it upon their husbands, posing in the eyes of
the world as suffering angels at the side of black-
hearted monsters. Her ridicule of such women
was sharp and plentiful.

" A deuce of a woman !" the captain murmured
as he betook himself to his library and — rare effort
for a dragoon — indited a letter four pages long to
his old comrade.

His friend's epistle, strange to say, touched Roh-
ritz. It was so cordial, so frank, and so warmly
sympathetic, such a contrast to the formal assur-
ances of sympathy which he met with elsewhere,
that he accepted the invitation extended to him,
and made his appearance at Erlach Court a week
afterwards.

THE ARRIVAL. 29

He had been here now for three weeks, and had
been really content, especially during the early
period of his visit, when he had been alone with
his host and hostess. The arrival of the general
and StJ-ey had somewhat annoyed him, and the
news of the approach of another detachment of
guests — consisting, moreover, of a mother and
daughter — positively irritated him. Good heavens!
another mother, another daughter! Was there
then no spot upon the face of the globe where one
could be safe from mothei's and daughters ?

CHAPTER III.

THE AKKIVAL.

A TELEGRAM had finally announced the arrival
of the Meinecks by the 10.30 morning train at
H , the nearest railroad-station, tolerably dis-
tant from Erlach Court.

It is almost noon ; the captain and Freddy have
driven over to the station to meet the guests, and
the rest of the family are on the terrace outside
of the dining-room. The hostess, dressed as usual
with puritanic simplicity in some kind of dark
linen stuff, delieiously fresh and smelling of lav-
ender, is leaning back in a garden-chair, diligently

3*

30 ERLACH COURT.

crochetting a red-and-white afghan for her little
son's bed. The general, in a very youthful felt
hat adorned with a feather, is chuckling in a
corner over a novel of Zola's. Anastasia is flut-
tering gracefully hither and thither, fancying the
while that she looks like a Watteau. In pur-
suance of her lamentable custom of wearing her
shabby old evening-gowns in the country in the
daytime, she has donned a much-worn sky-blue
silk with dilapidated tulle trimming, and is sur-
prised that her faded splendour appears to fail to
dazzle those present.

" Life is pleasant here, is it not ?" asks Katrine,
looking up from her crochetting at Eohritz, who
faces her as he leans against the balustrade of
the terrace. " I am trying my best to induce my
husband to leave the service and retire to this
place. He is still hesitating."

" Hm ! Do you not think that for a man of his
temperament existence at Erlach Court would be
a trifle monotonous ?" is Rohritz's reply.

"He can occupy himself," Katrine makes an-
swer, shrugging her shoulders.

" If I mistake not, you have rented the farm at
Erlach Court ?"

" Yes, thank heaven !" Frau von Leskjewitsch
admits, with a smile. " Farming is usually a very
costly taste for dilettanti. But he has entire con-
trol over the forests and the vineyards ; they would

THE ARRIVAL. 31

give him plenty to do ; and then he is an enthusi-
astic horseman, and the roads are very fine."

Rohritz is silent, and thoughtfully knocks off
the ashes from his cigar with the long nail of his
little finger. He cannot help thinking that Katrine
Leskjewitsch, exemplary as she may be as a mother,
has her faults as a wife. Jack Leskjewitsch is not
yet eight-and-thirty, and she is prescribing for him
a life suited to a man of sixty.

" It 39 certainly a pity to cut short his career,"
Rohritz remarks, after a while, " especially since
he passed so brilliant an examination for advanced
rank last year."

" Yes, his talent is indubitable," Katrine assents:
" one would hardly think it of him. He devotes
but little attention to study, as I can testify, and
I certainly did not coach him, as did the wife
of an unfortunate captain who passed the same
examination." The corners of Katrine's mouth
twitched. " What do you think was the end of the
united efforts of husband and wife ? Two weeks
after barely and laboriously passing his examina-
tion the worthy man was a maniac. In fact, no
fewer than seven of my husband's fellow-students
in that course lost their reason. 'Tis odd how
much ambitious incapacity one encounters in this
world ! Jack does not belong in that category,
however. He adores the service, but he has not a
particle of ambition."

32 ERLACH COURT.

All this is uttered with a seemingly woful lack
of interest.

" 'Tis a pity that she does not sympathize more
fully with Les," Rohritz thinks to himself; but
all he says is, " And yet you would have him re-
linquish his career ?"

" A cavalry-man who looks forward to a career
ought not to marry," Katrine maintains. " Proba-
bly you can recall the delights of a military,
nomadic existence for a family, particularly in
those holes in Hungary. Such hovels! — a stagnant
swamp in front, a Suabian regiment installed in
the rooms, and no sooner have you got things
into a civilized condition than you have to break
up to the sound of boot and saddle. In one
year I changed my abode three times. I could
have borne it all so far as I was concerned, but
there was the child. Freddy became subject to
attacks of fever, so I bundled him up and brought
him here. He recovered immediately, and I wrote
to my husband that he must choose between his
family and the army."

" That was to the point, at least," said Eohritz.

" Yes. He was apparently oiFended, and did not
answer my letter for a month. Then he was seized
with a longing for — for the child. He alighted in
the midst of our solitude like a bomb at Sevas-
topol. Of course we were charmed to see him, and
he was so delighted with Erlach Court that he

THE ARRIVAL. 33

was quite ready to turn his back on the service.
I, however, do not approve of hasty decisions, and
so I advised him to postpone his change of voca-
tions "

" His resignation of a vocation," Baron Rohritz
interpolated.

"What a hair-splitting humour you are in to-
day !" Katrine rejoined, vpith a shrug, — " to post-
pone for a while his — resignation, if that pleases
you. So he obtained leave of absence for a year.
Hm ! — I am afraid he is beginning to be bored.
I cannot understand it. You must, admit that we
are charmingly situated here."

" Indeed you are."

" The estate is in good order," Katrine went
on, " and we have no neighbours."

" A great advantage."

" So it seems to me. One of the most disagree-
able sides of an army life was always, in my opin-
ion, the being forced into association with so many
unpleasant people. Most of my husband's com-
rades were very agreeable, unusually kindly, pleas-
ant men, but to be forced to accept them all, and
their wives into the bargain without liberty to
show any preference, — it was simply odious. I
am a fanatic for solitude ; the usual human being
I dislike ; but you cannot throw everybody over,
however you may desire to do so," — ^with a glance
over her shoulder towards Stasy and the general.

34 ERLACH COURT.

" I beg you will make no application to yourself of
my remark."

"Much obliged." Rohritz bowed. "I confess
I began "

" No need of fine phrases," Katrine interrupted
him. " You know I like you. And in proof of
it — ^you may have heard that we want to pass the
winter here ; it will be delightful ! entirely lonely,
— shut off from civilization by a wall of snow, —
Christmas in the country, — the children from three
villages to provide with gifts, — the castle quite
empty, except. for our three selves and Freddy!
Well, in proof of my genuine friendship I invite
you to share with us this charming solitude. "Will
you come? Say you will." Dropping her work
in her lap, she offers him both her hands.

" A curious creature ! She treats me like an
aged man, and moreover considers herself suffi-
ciently elderly to dispense with caution in her inter-
course with the other sex. An odd illusion for a
woman still extremely pretty," Rohritz thinks;
and, occupied with these reflections, he does not
immediately reply.

" You decline ?" she asks, merrily. " I shall not
throw away such an invitation upon you a second
time."

" They are coming ! they are coming !" Stasy
exclaims, clapping her hands childishly and trip-
ping to and fro in much excitement.

THE ARRIVAL. 35

" I do not hear the carriage," Katrine rejoins,
looking at her watch. " Besides, it is not time for
them yet."

" But I hear something in the avenue Ah,

please come, dear Edgar," Stasy entreats.

Eohritz does not stir.

" Baron Kohritz !" in an imploring tone.

" What can I do for you, Fraulein Stasy ?"

"Your opera-glass — be quick!" And, while
Rohritz reluctantly rises to go for the desired
optical aid, Stasy lisps, "Ifot at all over-polite;
quite like a brother : just what I enjoy."

" It is they," Katrine exclaims. " The carriage
is just turning into the avenue. Let me have it
for a moment," — taking from his hand the glass
which Rohritz has just brought. " Yes, now I see
them quite distinctly."

A few minutes later the rattle of approaching
wheels is heard. The two ladies and the general
hasten down to receive the guests. Eohritz dis-
creetly withdraws to his apartment, and from behind
his half-drawn curtains watches the arrival. The
carriage stops, the captain springs out to aid two
ladies to alight. At first Eohritz hears nothing
but a hubbub of glad voices, sees nothing but a
confused group, the general standing on one side
with a polite grin on his face, and Freddy giving
vent to his joyous excitement by performing a war-
dance around the piarty.

36 ERLACH COURT.

When the situation at last becomes clear, he
perceives a very handsome old lady in a close
black travelling-hat, a pair of blue spectacles
shielding her eyes from the dust, and wearing a
dust-cloak which may once have been black, while
beside her — he adjusts his eye-glass in his eye —
assuredly Stella does not remind him of the
' hysterical tree-frog' of frightful memory, but of
some one else, for the life of him he cannot re-
member whom. He looks and looks, sees two
serious dark eyes in a gentle childlike face be-
neath the broad brim of a Kate-Green away hat, a
half-wayward, half-shy smile, charming dimples
appearing by turns in the cheeks and at the cor-
ners of the mouth, a delicately-chiselled nose, a
very short and rather haughty upper lip, beneath
which gleam rows of pearly teeth, and for the
rest, the figure of a sylph, rather tall, still a little
too thin, and with a foot peeping from beneath
her sldrt that Taglioni might covet.

He looks and looks. 'So, Stella certainly does
not remind him of the ' hysterical tree-frog,' but
as certainly she recalls to his mind something,
some one — who is it ? who can it be ?

An unpleasant surmise occurs to him, but before
it can take actual shape in his brain the impetuous
entrance of the captain has banished it.

" Come to the drawing-room, E,ohritz, and be
presented to the ladies," he calls out. "By the

STELLA. 37

way, what means this wretched idea of which
Stasy informs me? She says that you are going
back to Gratz immediately."

" The fact is, my lawyer has summoned me,"
Eohritz replies ; " but — hm ! — I fancy the matter
can be settled by letter. At any rate, I will try
to have it so disposed of."

" Bravo !"

CHAPTEE lY.

STELLA.

Fkbddy has been terribly disappointed ; instead
of the bonbonniere, the snap-pistol, or the story-
book, among which three articles he has allowed
his expectant imagination to rove, his aunt has
brought him Sanders's German Dictionary.

" I hope you will like it," Stella remarks, with
emphasis, depositing the voluminous gift upon the
school-room table. " We had to pay for at least
five pounds of extra weight of luggage in the
monster's behalf, and moreover it has crushed flat
my only new summer hat. 'Tis a great pity."

Freddy, who, although hitherto rather puny and
delicate in body, is mentally, thanks to clever qual-
ities inherited from both his parents, far in ad-
vance of his age, and already thinks Voss's trans-

4

38 ERLACH COURT.

lation of the Odyssey entertaining, turns over the
leaves of the three volumes of the Dictionary with-
out finding them attractive.

" I put in a good word for the child," Stella says,
with a laugh, to the captain, who with his friend
Rohritz happens to be in Freddy's school-room,
" but mamma insists that it is of no consequence;
if it does not please him now, it will be very
useful to him in future. Never mind, my darling,"
she adds, turning to her little cousin, who, with a
sigh and not without much physical effort, is put-
ting the colossal Sanders on his bookshelves; "it
certainly presents an imposing spectacle, and I
have a foolish thing for your birthday, the very
finest my limited means could afford." As she
speaks she strokes the little fellow's brown curls
affectionately.

" Stella, Stella, where are you loitering ?" a deep
voice calls at this moment, and the girl replies, —

" In a moment, mamma, I am coming ! — I have
to write a letter to a Berlin publisher," she says
by way of explanation to the two men, as she
leaves the room.

The evening has come. Dinner is over. All
are sitting in -more or less comfortable garden-
chairs on the terrace before the castle, beneath the
spreading boughs of a linden, now laden with
fragrant blossoms.

STELLA. 39

The stars are not yet awake, but the moon has
risen full, though giving but little light, and look-
ing in its reddish lustre like a candle lighted by
day; the heavens are of a pale, greenish blue,
VFith opalescent gleams on the horizon. The sun
has set, twilight has mingled lights and shadows,
the colours of the flowers are dull and faded.
Around the castle reigns a sweet, peaceful silence,
that most precious of all the luxuries of a resi-
dence in the country. The evening wind mm*-
murs a dreamy duo with the ripple of the stream
running at the foot of the garden, and now and
then is heard the heavy foot-fall of a peasant re-
turning from his work to the village.

Baroness Meineck is holding forth to her hostess,
who listens patiently, or at least silently, upon the
subject of the cholera-bacilli and the latest dis-
coveries of Pasteur. To Rohritz, who, will he nill
he, has had to place his hands at the disposal of
the arch Stasy as a reel for her crewel, the Baron-
ess's voice partly recalls a sentinel and partly a
tragic actress; she always talks in fine rounded
periods, as if she suspected a stenographer con-
cealed near. "While the quondam beauty, with a
thousand superfluous little arts, winds an endless
length of red worsted upon a folded playing-card,
he glances towards the spot where Stella is telling
stories to Freddy, and involuntarily listens.

Since the Baroness, perhaps because she has

40 ERLACH COURT.

reached some rather delicate details in her medi-
cal treatise, sees fit to lower slightly her powerful
voice, he can hear almost every word spoken hy
Stella. If he is especially susceptible in any re-
gard, it is in that of a beautiful mode of speech.
What Stella says he is quite indifferent to, but the
delightful tone of her soft, clear, bird-like voice
touches his soul with an indescribably soothing
charm.

" Now that's enough. I do not know any more
stories," he hears her say at last in reply to an en-
treaty from her little cousin for "just one more."

" No more at all ?" Freddy asks, in dismay, and
with all the earnestness of his age.

" Wo more to-day," Stella says, consolingly. " I
shall know another to-morrow." She kisses him on
the forehead. " You look tired, my darling ! Is it
your bedtime ?"

" No," the captain answers for him, " but he
could not sleep last night for delight in the coming
of our guests, and he is paying for it now. , Shall
I carry you up-stairs — hey, Freddy ?"

But Freddy considers it quite beneath his dig-
nity to go to bed with the chickens, and prefers
to clamber upon his father's knee.

" You are growing too big a fellow for this," the
captain says, rather reprovingly : nevertheless he
puts his arm tenderly about the boy, saying to
Stella, by way of excuse, " "We spoil him terribly :

STELLA. 41

he was not very strong in the spring, and he still
enjoys all the privileges of a convalescent, — ^hey,
my boy?" By vi^ay of reply the little fellow
nestles close to his father with some indistinct
words expressive of great content, and while the
captain's moustache is pressed upon the child's
soft hair, Stella takes a small scarlet wrap from
her shoulders and folds it about his bare legs.

" 'Tis good to sleep so, Freddy, is it not ? Ah,
where are the times gone when I could climb up
on my father's knees and fall asleep on his shoul-
der? — they were the happiest hours of my life!"
the girl says, with a sigh.

"But, Baron Rohritz, pray hold your hands a
little quieter," the wool-winding Stasy calls out to
her victim. " You twitch them all the time."

" If you only knew how glad I am to see you all
again, and to spend a few days in the country,"
Stella begins afresh after a while.

" Why, do you not come directly from the coun-
try ?" the captain asks, surprised.

"From the country? — we come from Zalow,"
Stella replies : " the difference is heaven-wide.
Yes, when mamma thirty years ago bought the
mill where we live now, — without the miller and
his wife, 'tis true, — because it was so picturesque,
it really was in the country, or at least in a village,
where besides ourselves there were only a few
peasants, and one other persodi, a misanthropic

4*

42 ERLACS COURT.

widow who lived at the very end of the hamlet in
a one-story house concealed behind a screen of
chestnut-trees. I have no objection to peasant
huts, particularly when their thatched roofs are
overgrown with green moss, and misanthropic
widows are seldom in one's way. But ten' years
ago a railway was built directly through Zalow,
and villas shot up out of the ground in every
direction like mushrooms. And such villas,
and such proprietors! All nouveaux riches and
pushing tradesfolk from Prague. A stocking-
weaver built two villas close beside us, — one for
his own family, and the other to rent; he chris-
tened the pair Girofle-Girofla, and declares that
the name alone is worth ten thousand guilders.
He also maintains that the architecture of his
villas is the purest classic : each has a Greek peri-
style and a square belvedere. It would be de-
liciously ridiculous if one were not forced to have
the monsters directly before one's eyes all the time.
The worst of it is that one really gets used to
them ! Dear papa's former tailor has built himself
a hunting-lodge in the style of Francis the First
directly on the road, behind a gilded iron fence
and without a tree near it for fear of obscuring its
splendour. Like all retired tradesfolk, the tailor
is sentimental. Only lately he complained to me
of the difficulty experienced by cultivated people
in finding a fitting social circle."

STELLA. 43

" Do you know him personally, then ?" the cap-
tain asks, with an air of annoyance.

" Oh, yes, we know every one to bow to," says
Stella. " In a little while we shall exchange calls :
I am looking forward to that with great pleasure."

" What do you think of such talk. Baron ?"
Stasy asks under her breath.

Baron Rohritz makes no reply: perhaps such
talk is to his taste.

Meanwhile, Stella goes on in the same satirical
tone : " As soon as some one of these sesthetic
proprietors has come to a decision as to where
the piano is to stand, we shall certainly be invited
to admire the new furniture. Then mamma will
look up from her books and say, ' I have no time ;
but if you want to go, pray do as you please.'
Mamma never cares what I do or where I go."
Stella's soft voice trembles ; she shakes her head,
passes her hand over her eyes, and runs on : " Even
the walks are spoiled ; one is never sure of not en-
countering a picnic-party. They are always sing-
ing by turns ' Dear to my heart, thou forest fair,'
and ' Gaudeanms,' and when they leave it the
'forest fair' is always littered with cold victuals,
greasy brown paper, and tin cans. It is horrible !
I detest that railway. It snatched from us the
prettiest part of our garden ; there is scarcely room
enough left for ' pussy wants a corner,' and now
mamma has rented half of it and the ground-

44 ERLAGH COURT.

floor of the mill to a family from Prague for a
summer residence."

" I do not understand Lina," the captain says,
with irritation. " You surely are not reduced to
the necessity of renting part of your small house
for lodgings."

" Mamma wanted just two hundred guilders to
buy Littre's Dictionary, — the fine complete edition.
Moreover, I think you are under a mistake with
regard to our resources. I detest the railway, but
if it had not bought of us, two years ago, a piece
of land on which to build a shop, I hardly know
what we should be living upon now. Ah, if poor
papa could see how M'e live ! He could not im-
agine a household without a butler or a lady^s-
maid. Mamma dismissed the butler at first upon
strictly moral grounds "

Anastasia von Gurlichingen casts down her eyes.
" Did you ever hear anything like that, Baron
Eohritz," she asks, " from a young girl ?"

Rohritz shrugs his shoulders impatiently, and
Stella goes on quite at her ease :

" He was always making love to the cook, and
the lady's-maid was jealous and complained of it.
Then the lady's-maid was dismissed, for pecuniary
reasons; then the cook, for sanitary considerations:
one fine day she nearly poisoned us all with ver-
digris, her copper kettles were so badly scoured.
Her place was never filled, for in the interim, that

STELLA. 45

is, while we were looking for a new cordon bleu,
mamma discovered that a cook was a very costly
article and that we could get along without one.
Our last maid-of-all work was a dwarf not quite
four feet tall, who had to mount on a stool to set
the table. Mamma engaged her because she
thought that her ugliness would put a stop to love-
making " Stella breaks the thread of her

discourse to laugh gently; her laugh is like the
ripple of a brook. "But real talent defies all
obstacles. Mamma's experiment made her richer
by one sad experience: she knows now that not
even a large hump can make its possessor im-
pervious to Cupid's arrows."

The captain laughs. Stasy's disapprobation has
reached its climax ; she twitches impatiently at the
worsted she is winding from Eohritz's hands.

" "What would papa say if he could see it all ?"
Stella says, in a changed voice.

" Do you still grieve so for your poor father,
mouse ?" the captain asks, kindly, perceiving that
the girl with difficulty restrains her tears at the
mention of her dead father.

"You would not ask that, uncle, if you knew
what a life I lead," she replies, in a choked voice.
" Yes, it is amusing enough to tell of, but to

live There is no use in thinking of it!"

She bends slightly above her little cousin, whose
head is resting quietly upon his father's shoulder.

46 ERLAGH COURT.

"He is sound asleep," she whispers, brushing
away a fluttering night-moth from Preddy's pretty
face, — " poor little man !"

" It is growing cool," Katrine declares, glancing
anxiously towards Freddy in the midst of the
Baroness's interesting discourse upon the latest
achievements of medical science, and then, rising,
she leaves her sister-in-law to go to her little son,
saying, " Give me the boy. Jack. I will carry him
up-stairs."

""What! drag up-stairs with this heavy boy?
Nonsense !" says the captain.

"Whereupon Freddy wakes, rubs his eyes, is a
little cross at first, after the fashion of sleepy chil-
dren, but finally says good-night to all and goes ofi",
his little hand clasped in his mother's.

" Here is some one else asleep too !" says Ka-
trine, as she passes the general, who is sitting with
his arms crossed and his head sunk on his breast.

" Can you tell me. Jack, whether mummies ever
have the rheumatism ?" she asks. " Indeed, you
had better waken him. I will have the whist-table
set out. — ^And you, sweetheart," she says to Stella,
" might unpack your music and sing us something."

While Stella amiably rises to go with her aunt,
and the Baroness makes ready to follow them,
murmui'ing that she must unpack the music her-
self, or her manuscripts will be all disarranged,
Stasy turns to Rohritz :

STELLA. 47

" "What do you say to it all ? Did you ever hear
such talk from a well-born girl ? Such a conversa- '
tion ! Some allowance, to be sure, must be made
for her."

But Rohritz simply murmurs, " Poor girl !"

"Yes, she is greatly to be pitied; her training
has been deplorable !" sighs Stasy, and then, lower-
ing her voice a little, she adds, " The colonel "

" What Meineck was he ?" Rohritz interrupts
her, impatiently. " There are four or five in the
army, — sons of a field-marshal, if I am not mis-
taken. Was he in the dragoons or the Uhlans ?"

"Franz Meineck, of the Hussars," says

Jack.

" The one, then, who distinguished himself at
Solferino and got the Theresa cross ?" Rohritz asks.

" The same," replies the captain.

"I do not know why I imagined that it must
bave been Heinrich Meineck. It was Franz,
then." He adds, with some hesitation, "I did not
know him personally, but I have heard a great
deal of him. He must have been a charming
officer and a delightful comrade, besides being one
of the bravest men in the army "

"He was particularly distinguished as a hus-
band," Stasy exclaims, with her usual fi-ank
malice.

" We will not speak of that, Fraulein Stasy,"
says the captain. " My sister's marriage was cer-

48 ERLACH COURT.

tainly an insane, overwrought affair, and Franz
gave his wife abundant cause for leaving him ; but
of the two lives his was the ruined one."

CHAPTER V.

AN EXPERIMENT.

Yes, of the two lives the colonel's was the ruined
one; wherefore, in spite of all the evident and
great fault on his side, the sympathies of every one
were in his favour, — that is, of all his fellows who
knew life and the world, and who were ready to
give their regard and their sympathy to men as
they are, instead of, like certain great philosophers,
reserving their entire store of commiseration for
those exquisitely correct creatures, men as they
should be.

When they made each other's acquaintance in
Lemberg at Lina's father's, Greneral Leskjewitsch's,
Franz Meineck was twenty-six and Lina Leskje-
witsch thirty-two years old. Nevertheless the
world — the world that was familiar with these two
people — wondered far more at her fancy for him
than at his falling a prey to her fascinations.

She had from her earliest years been an excep-
tionally interesting girl, and a position as such had

AN EXPERIMENT. 49

always been accorded her without any effort on
her part to obtain it, for in spite of all her whims
and eccentricities no one could detect in her a
spark of affectation or pretension. She was alto-
gether too indifferent to what people said of her
ever to pose for the applause of the crowd. Her
egotism, fed as it was by the homage of those
around her, led her to yield to the prompting of
every caprice, and since she was very beautiful,
and could be excessively fascinating when she
chose, — since, moreover, her father held a distin-
guished office under government, — she was dubbed
original and a genius where other girls would have
been condemned as eccentric and unmaidenly.

Always keenly alive to intellectual interests, she
was, by the time she had reached her twenty-fifth
year, a confirmed blue-stocking; she studied San-
skrit, and was in correspondence with half the scien-
tific men in Europe. Moreover, she was by no
means ' sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,'
but full of wit and spirit. She swam like a fish,
venturing alone far out upon river or lake, and
rode with the boldness of a trained equestrian,
without even a groom as escort. She had always
disdained to dance ; at the only ball she had ever
been induced to attend she had been merely an
on-looker. She could not comprehend how there
could be any pleasure in dancing, she remarked,
with a contemptuous glance towards the whirling

50 ERLACH COURT.

couples: it was either ridiculous, or childish, or
else positively disgusting.

Her contempt for love-making was as pronounced
as for dancing. The homage of the young exqui-
sites of society bored her inexpressibly; it was
absolutely odious to her. She often boasted that
in her life she had had but three loves, — Buona-
parte, Lord Byron, and Machiavelli.

All her acquaintance, more especially the femi-
nine portion of it, were astounded when a report
was suddenly circulated that she was smitten with
Franz Meineck, a simple, fair-haired hussar, with
nothing to recommend him save his handsome face
and his fine chivalric bearing.

It was easy to see what attracted him in her, —
her rich brunette beauty, and, in strange contrast
with it, the cold, defiant bluntness of her air and
manner, the nimbus of originality that siirrounded
her, the fact that towards all other men her in-
difference was well-nigh discourtesy, while to him
she was amiability itself. But what she, she of
all girls in the world, could find to attract her in
him, — this was what puzzled the brains of all the
wiseacres in Lemberg.

But that he pleased her no one could deny,
least of all she herself. Once, after a dinner at
which Meineck had been her neighbour, a very
cultivated and interesting friend asked her how
she could possibly find any entertainment in that

AN EXPERIMENT. 51

superficial hussar. She replied, with a shrug, that
she found it much more amusing to hear a super-
ficial hussar talk than to see a distinguished phi-
losopher masticate his food, which according to her
experience was the only entertainment afforded by
great scientific lights at a dinner.

While, however, Meineck's love for her was,
from the very beginning, of an enthusiastic, pas-
sionate nature, the inclination she felt for him
was at first very gentle in character.

For her he was but a child ; the idea that her
relations with him could end in marriage would
have seemed more mad and improbable to her
than to any one else. Her demeanour towards
him was always friendly; she would rally him
good-humouredly, and ajion treat him with a kind-
liness that was almost maternal. There was noth-
ing in her manner to suggest her being in love
with him.

Towards the end of February, when some treach-
erously mild weather heralded, as all prophesied,
a cold windy March, Lina allowed her youthful
adorer to be her escort in long rides on horse-
back. Here he was in his element, and greatly
her superior in spite of her Amazonian skill. It
was after one of these expeditions, when she
reached home with eyes sparkling and cheeks
slightly flushed, that she suddenly had an attack
of terror. She knew that, accustomed as she had

52 ERLACH COURT.

been for so long to absolute freedom, she must
sooner or later find any fetters galling; she did
not wish to marry.

The next day, without informing any one save
her nearest of kin of her intention, she left Lem-
berg and retired to a small estate near Prague,
where after her independent fashion she was often
wont to stay for months alone with an old gardener
and her maid.

It was a pretty, romantic spot, formerly a mill.
A venerable weeping-willow stood beside it, its
branches trailing above the antiquated mansard
roof; a little brook rippled past it, gurgling and
sobbing between banks of forget-me-nots and jon-
quils on its way to the larger stream. In this
particular March, howevec, jonquils and forget-me-
nots were still sleeping soundly beneath the snow,
and the brook was silent. The February prophets
were right : March was terribly cold. Long icicles
hung from the eaves of the mill, almost reaching
its windows, and the weeping-willow was clad in
a fairy-like robe of glistening snow.

Lina sat from morning until evening like a kind
of feminine Doctor Faust among bookcases, re-
torts, and globes in a spacious, dreary room, try-
ing to work and longing ' to recover herself.' Then
one day Meiiieck made his appearance at the mill.
She received him with a great show of gay in-
difference, sitting at her writing-table and playing

AN EXPERIMENT. 53

with her pen by way of intimating that any pro-
longation of his visit was undesirable. He per-
ceived this. Embarrassed, confused by the sight
of the scientific apparatus that surrounded him
on all sides, he sat leaning forward, his sabre
between his knees, in an arm-chair from which
he had. been obliged to remove a Greek lexi-
con and two volumes of the 'Revue,' and stam-
mering all sorts of childish nonsense while he
gazed at her with adoring eyes. She wore a
perfectly plain gown of dark-green cloth fitting
her' like a riding-habit, and her hair, which
curled naturally, was combed back behind her
ears and cut short. He found this mode of
dressing her hair charming, and his heart throbbed
fast as he noted the magnificent fall of her shoul-
ders. In his eyes she was incomparably beau-
tiful ; hers was the majestic loveliness of the
unattainable. He often saw her thus afterwards
in his dreams, and in his death-agony her
image hovered before him again, noble, unde-
faced, as it was impressed upon his heart at this
interview.

Later on he wondered how he found courage to
speak, but — he found it. He sued for her hand,
he wooed her passionately with words that could
not but move her. She I'efused him. He would
not accept her refusal. She stood her ground
bravely, frankly confessing to him that it cost her

6*

54 ERLACH COURT.

an effort to repulse him, but that she must do it to
insure the peace of mind of both. Apart from
her dislike of resigning the freedom of her ex-
istence, she thought it unprincipled to give heed
to the pleading of a poor exaggerated lad who was
led away in a moment of romantic enthusiasm to
offer his hand to a woman so much his elder.

There were such full, warm, cordial tones in her
deep voice ! Sight and hearing failed him. He
knelt before her, kissed the hem of her garment,
and promised at last to be content for the present
if she would allow him to speak again at the end
of six months. By that time it would be manifest
that his love was not merely momentary romantic
enthusiasm.

She laid her beautiful slender hands upon his
shoulders, and said, kindly, "Dear lad, if after six
months you are still so insane as to covet an el-
derly bride, we will discuss the matter again.
And now adieu !"

He pressed his lips upon her hand so passion-
ately that she suddenly withdrew it, and the colour
mounted to her cheeks; he had never seen them
flush so before. His eyes fathomed the depths
of her own : she turned her head away.

" Au revoir !" he said, and withdrew, bowing
gravely and profoundly.

There was something of triumph in the rhythm
of his retreating footsteps ; at least so it seemed to

AN EXPERIMENT. 55

her as she listened to the sound as it died away in
the distance. He walked as though his feet were
shod with victory. Indignation possessed her.
Iler strong nature defended itself vigorously
against the influence of this beguiling insidious
force which had taken captive her heart and
threatened to subdue her reason. In vain ! The
hand which his lips had pressed burned, and sud-
denly there glided through her veins, dreamily,
lullingly, a something inexpressibly sweet, some-
thing she had never experienced before, — a de-
licious yet paralyzing sense of weariness. She
started, and sat upright; then, gathering together
the papers on her writing-table, she tried to
work. In vain! The pen dropped from her fin-
gers. She rose hastily and went to take a long
walk. Her feet sank deep in the melting snow;
the air was warm, and the south wind rustled
among the trees and shrubbery, whispering mys-
teriously along the crackling surface of the frozen
brook. Her weariness increased; she had to re-
trace her steps.

She went to bed earlier than usual that evening,
and tried to think of grave subjects ; but sweet,
long-forgotten melodies haunted her heart and
brain : she could not think ; and at last she fell
asleep to the sound of that fairy-like music within
her soul.

In the middle of the night she awoke. The

56 ERLACH COURT.

moon shone through her window directly upon her
bed. She listened. "What sound was that? A
merry uproar like the triumphal note of spring —
the swift rushing of the brook — ascended to her
windows. The ice was broken.

And in slow, monotonous cadence the falling of
the drops from the melting snow on the roof struck
upon her ear.

" Ah," she sighed, " the spring has come !"

He constantly wrote her letters full of chivalrie
fire and enthusiastic devotion. She never answered
them. Then the war of 1859 broke out. One of
her brothers informed her that Meineek had had
himself transferred from the show-regiment — one
but little adapted to service in the field — to which
he had hitherto belonged to another which had
been ordered to the front. A short time afterwards
she received from the young hussar the following
note :

" In spite of the horror with which the loss of
life inseparable from every campaign inspires me, I
rejoice in the war. I rejoice in the opportunity of
proving to you at last that I am worth something in
the world. Grant me one favour : send me a line
or two, or only a curl of your hair, or some little
trinket that you have worn, — anything belonging to
you that I can take with me into action. I kiss your

AN EXPERIMENT. 57

dear hands, and am, as ever, with profound esteem
and intense devotion,

" Your r. Mkineck."

She clasped her hands before her face and sobbed
bitterly. And she, who all her life long had jeered
at such sentimentality, cut off one of her curls, en-
closed it in a small golden locket, and sent it to
him with the following words :

"Dear lad, —

"You burden me with a great responsibility.
There was no need for you to plunge neck and
heels into this campaign to prove to me that you
were worth something. I send you herewith the
trifle for which you ask: may it carry a blessing
with it ! God bring you safe home, is the earnest
prayer of your faithful friend,

" Kaeoline Leskjewitsch."

June passed. The earth languished beneath the
burning sun. Pale, feverish, and sleepless, Karoline
Leskjewitsch dragged through the endless summer
days, scraping lint, — she felt unfit for any other oc-
cupation, — and reading with hot, dry eyes the lists
of the dead and wounded.

One day she found his name in the list of the
dead. She was crushed, utterly annihilated. A few
hours afterwards, however, she received a letter

58 ERLACH COURT.

from her brother, stating that the report of Mei-
neck's death was a mistake; he was in Venice,
severely wounded. She could not tell how it was,
but on the same evening, almost without luggage,
without telling any one of her plans, she started
off with her old maid, and two days later arrived
in Venice and was conducted by her brother to the
room where the wounded man lay.

Pale, wasted, with dishevelled hair and sunken
features, he lay back among the pillows. Too
weak to stir, he could only greet her with a bliss-
ful smile.

She wore a black Spanish hat with large nodding
feathers. As she entered she took it off, and, going ,
to his bedside, she said, " I did not come merely to
see you, but as a Sister of Charity, and I shall stay
with you until you are well again."

He replied, in a voice so weak as to be scarce
audible, " To make me well a single word will
suffice : say it!"

She hesitated for a moment, and then, stooping
over him, she pressed her lips to his.

Who that saw them together ten years later could
have believed it? l^o marriage was ever more ro-
mantic than theirs at first. His case was considered
hopeless. The two physicians whom she questioned
as to his condition declared his recovery impossible.
Resolutely setting aside all opposition, she was mar-
ried to him immediately, that she might nurse him

AN EXPERIMENT. 59

devotedly and be enabled to support him in the
dark hour of the death-struggle.

At the end of ten weeks the physicians acknowl-
edged that they had been mistaken. Ifot only was
he out of danger, but he had well-nigh recovered
his former strength and vigour. Early in October
the pair took their wedding-trip to Bohemia. In
matters of sentiment Franz was a poet to his finger-
tips, and he scorned the idea of the usual journey
with his bride from one hotel to another. They
spent their honeymoon in the old mill at Zalow.

On many a fresh, dewy, autumnal morning the
peasants saw the two tall figures strolling through
the forest where the leaves were rapidly falling.
She who had hitherto cai-ried herself so erect now
walked with bent head and with shoulders slightly
bowed, as if scarcely able to bear the weight of her
great happiness.

They would wander unweariedly about the coun-
try for hours : they ransacked all the old peasant
dwellings for antiquities, and they chose the spot
for their graves in a picturesque, romantic church-
yard. And when the light faded and they re-
turned home, they would sit beside each other in
the twilight in the spacious room where he had
wooed her, and where now all the literary and
scientific apparatus had given place to huge bou-
quets of autumn flowers filling the vases in every
corner. The bouquets slowly changed colour, the

60 ERLACH COURT.

cornflowers paled and the poppies grew black, in
the darkening night; and something like profound
melancholy would possess the lovers, — the sacred
melancholy of happiness. "With her hand in his,
the wife would tell her husband of the mild March
night in which the joyous sobbing of the brook had
wakened her, calling to her that spring had come.

" Believe it or not, as you please," Meineck was
wont to say, often with a very bitter smile, in after-
years, " I am really that fabulous individual, hitherto
sought for in vain, the man who never, during the
entire period of his honeymoon, was bored for a
single quarter of an hour."

He took up his profession again ; she would not
hear of his resigning from the army for her sake.
When he proposed it she clasped her arm tenderly
about his neck and said, "Inactivity would ill be-
come you, and I want to be proud indeed of my
husband. I have but one duty now in life, to make
you happy," she gently added.

He was fairly dizzy with bliss. Was it possible,
he sometimes asked himself, that an angel had ac-
tually descended from heaven to nestle in his heart
and to conjure up for him a Paradise on earth?
Her caresses gained in value from the fact that she
was not so softly docile as other women, that now
and then he had to overcome in her a certain
acerbity and harshness.

" A woman and a horse must both be possessed

AN EXPERIMENT. 61

of amiable possibilities of obstinacy, or we take no
pleasure in them," he declared.

She bloomed afresh after her marriage. Her
features, which were rather marked, grew softer,
and had the freshness of those of a girl of eighteen.
Her hair, which at bis request she allowed to grow,
curled in soft rings about her brow. Every one
noticed how very beautiful she had grown ; and he
too, they said; had gained much since his marriage.
His moral and intellectual stand-point was loftier.
She refused to have an interest which he did not
share ; she expended an immense amount of acute-
ness in discovering what would arrest his attention
in whatever she was reading, and either repeated it
to him or read it aloud.

The idea of playing the love-sick girl at her
age was odious to her, — ridiculous ; she wished to
be his friend, his trusty comrade; but withal she
spoiled him by a thousand delicate attentions far
more than the youngest wife would have done.
She exhausted her ingenuity in rendering his life
delightful. She was not fond of going much into
society ; therefore she made his home attractive to
his comrades. The entire regiment adored her,
from the colonel to the youngest ensign. The
women alone hated her. It was intolerable, they
thought, that a blue-stocking should presume to
eclipse them with the other sex.

What became of all this bliss ? It vanished little

62 ERLACH COURT.

by little, as the snow slowly subsides, filtering into
the ground.

:if If -if if * * *

" I know myself," she had said to him when he
wooed her ; " I know myself : my paralyzing weak-
ness will pass away, as will your intoxication."

But his intoxication, after all, lasted longer than
her weakness.

After they had been married about five years,
their second daughter, Estella, was born. The
mother's health was terribly undermined for a
while. Franz surrounded her with the most loving
care, but she no longer took any pleasure in it.
The fitful, unnatural glow kindled so late in her
heart slowly died away ; her illusions faded, her
passion cooled. Ifothing was left of the young
spring deity of her imagination who had roused
her heart from its cold wintry sleep, save a good-
humoured, ordinary man whose society offered
her no attraction and whose tenderness wearied
her.

Then came the campaign of 'QQ. "When he left
her she contrived to shed a couple of tears, and
during the fray in Bohemia her conscience pricked
her terribly, but when the truce was proclaimed she
was quite indifferent as to the length of his ab-
sence ; it might have been prolonged ad infinitum,
for all she cared. When he came home at the end
of half a year his conscience was laden with a first

AN EXPERIMENT. 63

infidelity. She had written an essay upon Don
John of Austria.

From this moment the downward course was
rapid.

If he could but have had a comfortable attractive
home, he might perhaps have clung to it ; he might
have felt that he had something to live for, some-
thing to prevent, as he afterwards expressed it, his
' going to the devil.'

But he daily felt more and more of a stranger
beneath his own roof, and his wife did nothing now
to induce him to stay there ; on the contrary, his
presence bored her, — a fact which she did not
always conceal.

For a little while he restrained himself, and
then

All the brutal instincts of his nature asserted
themselves, and he took no pains to subdue them.

One joy, however, was his all through this dread-
ful time, — his youngest daughter. He never took
much pleasure in the elder of the two : she had
inherited all her mother's caprice, without any of
her talent.

But little Stella was indeed a darling.

"When she was between one and two years old,
at a time when his comrades, although but rarely,
still met at his house at gay little suppers, he would
go up to the nursery, where the child lay in bed,

64 ERLACH COVRT.

and if she happened to be awake and laughing at
his approach he would take her in his arms just
as she was in her little white night-gown and cap
and carry her down-stairs to display her. She
would obediently give her hand to every guest,
but was not to be induced to unclasp the other
arm from her father's neck. He petted and
caressed her while his friends praised his pretty
little daughter.

When she had grown larger, she was always the
first to run to meet him on his return home from
parade. Often in winter when his cloak was
covered with snow she would shrink away with a
laugh, exclaiming, " Oh, papa, how cold ! I cannot
touch you."

" Come here," he would say to her, and, open-
ing his cloak, he would gather her up in his arms.
" 'Tis warm enough here, mouse, is it not?" And
as she clung to him he would close the cloak
about her, and she would thrust her hands through
the opening in front and peep out, supremely
happy.

She often remembered in after-years how deli-
cious it had been to nestle against her father's
broad chest, protected in the darkness, and look
out into the world through a narrow crack.

He it was who gave her her first alphabet-blocks,
more as a toy than by way of instruction. She
ran after him continually to show him the words

AN EXPERIMENT. 65

she had spelled out with them, taking especial de-
light in long learned expressions of which she did
not understand a syllable. One of the first words
she put together upon his writing-table as she sat
upon his knee was ' phosphorescence.'

He laughed, and told the officers of it at the
riding-school. Poor fellow! He was secretly
ashamed of his wretched home and his matrimo-
nial failure, as well as of the miserable part he
played in his household. As he could not speak
of anything else, he talked of his child.

His wife's article upon Don John of Austria
appeared meanwhile in 'The Globe,' and, unfortu-
nately, attracted considerable attention. One critic
compared the author's brilliant style to that of
Macaulay. From that moment she lost the last
remnant of interest in her house and family.

The praise which her article received went to
her head ; she recalled how when a young girl she
had been called a genius, and how it had been said
that if she only chose to take the slightest pains
she could excel George Sand as an author, Clara
Schumann as a pianiste, and Rachel as an actress.
Yes, if she only chose ! Now she did choose.
She tried her hand in every department of litera-
ture, devised plots for tragedies and romances, and
wrote essays upon every imaginable social problem,
without achieving any really finished or useful re-
e 6*

66 ERLAGH COURT.

suit. She herself was quite dissatisfied with her
efforts, but she never ascribed their imperfection
to any M'ant of capacity, but always to the fact
that the free flight of her fancy was cramped by
her domestic cares. Possessed by the demon of
ambition, she turned aside from everything that
could absorb her time or hinder her in the mad
pursuit of her chimera. Social enjoyment did
not exist for her : she secluded herself entirely from
society. If her husband wished to see his com-
rades he could find them at the club.

Her household went to ruin. It was long before
Meineck ventured to remonstrate with his highly-
gifted wife ; but at last scarcely a day passed with-
out crimination and recrimination between the pair.
In spite of his faults and aberrations from the right
path, he was exquisitely fastidious in his personal
requirements and a martinet in his love of order;
his wife's slovenly habits and the disorder of her
household disgusted him.

" Good heavens ! who," he sometimes asked,
angrily, "could put up with such untidy rooms?
— all the doors ajar, the drawers half open and
their contents tossed in like hay ; the servants dirty
and ill trained, and the meals served in a way to
destroy the finest appetite ! Even the children are
neglected."

There came at last to be terrible scenes, in which
Meineck would shout and swear and now and then

AN EXPERIMENT. 67

shatter to pieces some chair or ottoman that stood
in his way, while his wife sat motionless at her
writing-table, now and then uttering some cold,
cutting phrase, her pen suspended over her paper,
longing for the moment when she should be left
alone ' to work.'

Yet at intervals there were still moments when
she would seize the helm of her neglected house-
hold, would set things straight, and would preside
in tasteful attire at a well-orderedtable. Her in-
born elegance upon such occasions could not but
excite admiration, and for a few hours, sometimes
for a couple of days, she would expend her talent
upon what alone employed it worthily, in promoting
the comfort of those about her.

Upon such occasions Meineck would torment him-
self with self-reproach, would take upon himself
the entire fault of her shortcomings, and would,
so far as she would permit him, show her the
most devoted attention. Scarcely, however, did
he begin to have faith in the sunshine when it
vanished.

Moreover, these seasons of wondrous amiability
on Karoline's part grew rarer and briefer, — par-
ticularly when she could not but acknowledge
that her literary career by no means developed so
brilliantly as she had hoped from the success of
her Don John of Austria. She sought the cause
of this, as has been said, not in the insufficiency

68 ERLACH COURT.

of her own talent, but in the cramping nature of
her domestic circumstances.

^ :^ :)fi :^ -^ ^ ^

One evening — Stella was about eleven years old
— Meineck came home intoxicated. Chance willed
that both his wife and his daughters saw him in
this condition.

The next day at the mid-day meal he was rather
uncomfortable in their presence, and consequently
talked more and faster than usual, assuming that
air of bravado which some men are sure to adopt
when they are particularly embarrassed. His
aft'ected self-possession vanished very soon, how-
ever. His wife merely bestowed upon him a cold
greeting, and then entered into an absorbing con-
versation with Franziska, the elder daughter, upon
some abstruse point of English. layr. She and the
girl both avoided looking at him, and sat bolt
upright, with virtuous indignation expressed in
every feature.

He turned from them to his loving little Stella.
She was sitting, pale and with downcast eyes,
before an empty plate. Poor little Stella! she
too had been affected by the scene of the evening
before. What business was it of hers ? "Was he
the only man in the world who had ever been so
overcome ? Was that chit to school him ? For
the first time in her life he spoke harshly to
her : " What is the matter with you ? Why do

AN EXPERIMENT. 69

you not eat? Are you ill?" And, teekoning to
the servant, he put something upon her plate.

She took up her knife and fork obediently, but
she could not swallow a morsel, and the big tears
fell upon her plate. He saw them perfectly well,
although he pretended not to look at her.

"When the others had retired and he sat alone at
the comfortless board, his head leaning on his right
hand, his left drumming a tattoo on the table, as he
reflected upon his squandered life, suddenly a little
arm stole around his neck and two tender childish
lips were pressed to his temple. He started: it
was Stella ! He took her on his knee and covered
her head, her neck, even her little hands, with
kisses, and -his tears fell upon her brow. N'either
of them ever forgot that moment.

'(• ^ Ij" •(* -t- 'P 5p

Soon after this the husband and wife agreed so
far as to find their life together intolerable, and
they parted by mutual consent. Of course the
mother took the children; what could Meineck
have done with them ? The legal divorce, with
which she threatened him if he did not accede to
a voluntary separation, would undoubtedly have
assigned them to her. He was to be allowed to
Spend two weeks of every year beneath her roof to
see the children. These arrangements concluded,
she set out for Florence to collect materials for a
history of the Medici, — which she never wrote.

70 ERLACH COURT.

In the spring he went to her at Meran. His
position in her household was so painful, however,
that he did not stay all the allowed time : he felt
disgraced even in his little Stella's eyes ; she seemed
estranged from him.

He never came to be with them again. He often
sent his daughters beautiful presents, and wrote
them long, affectionate letters, but he made no
further attempt to see them.

Years passed. Meineck had risen to the rank of
colonel ; his wife meanwhile had tramped all over
the map with her daughters, from Madrid to Con-
stantinople, to collect historical material for all
sorts of projected essays. She was now at her mill
in Zaiow, partly because her finances were at a low
ebb, and partly because she intended at last to begin
her great work. This work upon which she had
settled definitively was ' The Part assigned to
Woman in the Development of Universal History.'

Franziska, who, oddly enough, could no longer
agree with her mother, was lodging in Prague with
the widow of a government official who rented a
few rooms to teachers and bachelors, and preparing
herself in a bleak little apartment to pass her final
examinations. Poor Stella, who had meanwhile shot
up into a tall miss of eighteen, went to Prague by
railway three times a week in summer and winter,
always alone, to take lessons, — read everything
she could lay hold of, from Milton's ' Paradise

AN EXPERIMENT. 71

Lost' to Hauff's ' Man in the Moon,' — and tramped
about the country escorted by a very savage white
wolf-hound.

It was in ll^ovember, and the ground was covered
with snow, when a letter arrived from the colonel
in Venice to his wife and daughters. He had been
ordered to a southern climate on account of an
affection of the lungs which had not yielded to a
course of treatment at Gleichenbeig, and he had
now been in Venice for a month. If his daughters
would consent, the letter went on to say, to come
to cheer his loneliness for a while, he would do
his best to make their stay in Venice agreeable to
them.

Fraiiziska declared that she could not possibly
interrupt her studies at this time ; Stella announced
that she was ready to set off on the instant. Her
mother hesitated to allow her to travel alone, and
looked about for a suitable escort for her, but Stella
declared that she needed none. Had she not been
to Prague continually alone by the railway ? and
where was the difference in going to Venice, except
that it was farther off? Moreover, there were car-
riages for ladies only. It never occurred to this
valiant young person, trained to economy as she
had been by her learned mother, that she could
travel otherwise than second-class.

Her mother enjoined it upon her not to waste
her time in Venice, and instead of a luncheon

72 ERLAC3 COURT.

stuffed a ' Histoire de Venise' into her travelling-
bag. The girl bought her ticket, attended to her
luggage herself, and then mounted cheerily into
a much overheated railway-carriage and was borne
away.

CHAPTER VI.

A KUINED LIFE.

How she rejoiced in the prospect of seeing him
again, looking forward to the joy of nestling ten-
derly in his arms and telling him how she had
longed for him during the many, many years,
and how she had lain awake many a night telling
herself stories of him, — that is, recalling every
little incident in her memory with which he was
connected !

She did not recall him as she had last seen
him, old before his time, with dark rings around
his bloodshot eyes and deep wrinkles at the corners
of his mouth, gray and worn ; no, she saw him
with fair curls and a merry, kindly look, sometimes
in his dazzling hussar-uniform, but oftener in his
blue undress-coat with breast-pockets. She could
not possibly call him up in her memory without an
accompaniment of the rattle of spurs and sabre.

A RUINED LIFE. 73

She saw his shapely, carefully- tended hands; she
distinctly remembered the fragrance of Turkish
tobacco, mingled with the odour of jasmine, with
which all his belongings were saturated.

For her he was always the brilliant young officer
who had muffled her in his cloak when she ran
to meet him.

How long the journey seemed to ber at first!
Then she was suddenly assailed by a strange
timidity : when the conductor took her ticket and
announced that the next station was Venice she
began to tremble.

The train stopped; the conductor opened the
door. With her heart throbbing up in her throat,
she looked out, but saw no one whom she knew.
No, her father had evidently not come to meet
her! Could he have failed to receive her tele-
gram? She noticed a gray-haired man in civil-
ian's dress, with a crush-hat, and delicately chiselled
features wasted by illness, and large hollow eyes,
peering about as if he were looking for some one.
A cold, paralyzing pang shot through her : his look
met her own. "While he had lived in her memory
as a brilliant young officer, she had always been for
him the undeveloped child of twelve, with tightly-
stretched red stockings, and a short shapeless
gown, — something that could be taken on his lap
and caressed. But this daughter advancing to-
wards him was a young lady, who could pass judg-

74 ERLACH COURT.

ment upon him, a judgment that could not be
bribed, like that of a child, by caresses. He
asked himself, with a shudder, how much she knew
of his life, and whether she were capable of for-
giving it, forgetting, in his dread, that a woman
will forgive everything in the man whom she
loves, be he husband, brother, or father, save cow-
ardice and dishonour, — and as far as regarded the
point d'honnmr the colonel's worst enemy could find
nothing of which to accuse him.

" Papa !"

"Stella!" Instead of clasping her in his arms,
he kissed her hand. " How are they all at home ?"
he asked, embarrassed. " Is your mother well ? and
Tranzi ?"

" Oh, yes ! They both gave me all sorts of kind
messages for you. Franziska, unfortunately, could
not come with me, for she could not interrupt her
studies at this time."

"What frightfully correct German she spoke !
Had they robbed him of his little Stella? His
annoyance increased.

" Where is your maid?" he asked.

" Maid ? I have none. Oh, we have not had a
maid for a long time."

" You came all the way alone ?" the colonel ex-
claimed, in dismay, — " all alone ?"

" Yes. You have no idea how independent and
practical I am."

A RUINED LIFE. 75

The colonel frowned ; he would rather hare
found his daughter spoilod and helpless ; but he
said nothing, only asked about her luggage to hand
it over to the porter of the Hotel Britannia, and
then offered her his arm to conduct her to the gon-
dola which was waiting for them. Arrived at the
hotel, they got into the elevator to be taken to the
third story, and they had as yet scarcely exchanged
three words with each other.

The pretty little salon into which he conducted
her looked out upon the Grand Canal and past the
church of Santa Maria della Salute upon the Lido.
The room was pleasantly warm, and in the centre
a table was invitingly spread, the teakettle sing-
ing merrily, flanked by a flask of golden Marsala
and a bottle of Bordeaux. A prismatic ray of
sunshine fell across the neat creases of the snowy
table-cloth.

" Oh, how delightful !" cried Stella, and her eyes
sparkled, while in her delicate and softly-rounded
cheek appeared the dimple for which her father
had hitherto looked in vain.

" I had a little breakfast made ready for you,
thinking that you might perhaps have had nothing
very good to eat upon your journey," said he.

" I have eaten nothing since I left home but
biscuit, because I disliked going to the railway
restaurants," she declared.

And the colonel rejoined, " Tims! not entirely a

76 ERLACH COURT.

strong-minded female yet, I see," and as lie spoke
lie helped her take off her long brown paletot.
"If I am not mistaken," he said, examining the
clumsy article of dress, " this is an old army-
cloak."

" Indeed it is, papa," she replied, proudly, — " one
of your old cloaks : I had it altered by our tailor
in Zalow, because it reminds me of old times."
And this was all she could bring herself to say of
the myriad charming and loving phrases she had
prepared. " It is a great success, my coat. Do
you not like it ?" she asked.

" Candidly, no," he made reply. " Nevertheless
I am greatly obliged to it for proving to me that,
even in the clumsiest and ugliest garment ever de-
vised by human hands to disfigure one of God's
creatures, my daughter is still charming."

She cast down her eyes with a little blush and
was suddenly ashamed of her threadbare adapta-
tion of which she had been so proud. Kindly, but
still with some hesitation, he put his hand upon
her shoulder and said, " You will let me look a
little more closely at my daughter."

A warm wave of affection suddenly surged up in
her heart.

"Do not look at me, papa; only love me," she
exclaimed, and, throwing her arm around his neck,
she nestled close to him. "You cannot imagine
how rejoiced I was to come to you."

A RUINED LIFE. 77

And the poor wretcli reverently bent his sad,
weary head above his child's golden curls, and re-
pentantly acknowledged to himself that he had not

deserved so great mercy.

*******

When daylight had faded and the lanterns at the
base of the old palaces flared up, casting reddish
reflections to break and glimmer upon the surface
of the lagunes, the colonel lit the lamp and put
paper and writing-materials upon the table before
Stella.

" Write a few lines to your mother, my darling,
and thank her for sending you to me." Then,
while Stella was writing, he sat opposite to her for
a while in silence, his head thoughtfully leaning on
his hand. At last he began : " Stella, I have an
impression that you live now in a very modest way
at home. Do you know the state of your mother's
finances ?"

" Low," said Stella, laconically.

" Hm ! I really do not know how much is neces-
sary to maintain two daughters ; perhaps I do not
send her enough for you. She ought to have let
me know. I do not wish that my children should
be pinched, as — as "

" As they seem to be from the looks of my shabby
wardrobe," Stella said, with a laugh. " Well, we
are not quite so badly off, after all. If it be a
question of buying books or curios, we can always

78 EELACH COURT.

scrape the money together ; but if one wants a pair
of new boots, the purse is empty."

The colonel tugged discontentedly at his mous-
tache.

" I beg you to write to Franzi and ask her if she
needs money," he began afresh. " I am, to be sure,
living now upon my capital, but your share is se-
cured to you, and I shall not last long."

At first his meaning escaped her ; she gazed at
him with wide eyes; then, as she comprehended at
last, the pen fell from her fingers, and she burst into
a flood of tears.

" Hush, hush, my darling; do not torment your-
self beforehand. Perhaps I describe my condition
to you as worse than it really is," he said, leaning
tenderly over her, and, putting his band beneath
her chin, he looked deep into her dark eyes. " If
sunshine can make a man well I am all right."

ISTo, it was too late, — too late ! His physical
strength could never be restored, his lungs noth-
ing could heal ; but with his child beside him his
soul and heart gained health and strength. Since
those first fair years of his married life, he had
never been so happy as now, although he seldom
quite forgot that he stood on the brink of the
grave.

Once, on a damp muggy IN'ovember evening in
a Viennese suburb he had seen a drunkard stag-

A RUINED LIFE. 79

gering along the wall in a narrow street, quite
unable to find his way. A policeman was just
about to take liini into custody, when a little girl,
muffled in rags and with a pale wizened face, sud-
denly appeared beside him out of the darkness,
seized him by his red, trembling, swollen hand,
and called in a hoarse, anxious voice, without im-
patience or harshness, but not without authority,
' Father, come home !' And the drunkard, who
had paid no heed to the jeers of the passers-by,
nor to the admonition of the policeman, hung his
head, and without a word followed the weak, help-
less little creature like a lamb. The colonel had
stood and looked after them until the darkness
swallowed them up. He recalled distinctly the
girl's thin yellow braids, her long chin, the sordid
red-and-black plaid shawl which she wore about
her shoulders, and the worn old laced boots, far
too big for her little feet and coming half-way up
her naked little blue legs, and continually in her
way as she walked.

The little episode had made a painful impression
upon him for a time, and then he had forgotten it.
Now it arose in his memory, but transfigured, and
as, clasping his daughter's hand, he went on to his
grave, he compared himself in his secret soul with

the drunkard led home by the child.

*******

He was very ill. Unaccustomed to spare him-

80 ERLAGH COURT.

self, and without any real pleasure in life, lie had
increased his malady by months of entire want of
care and nursing, until his physicians had insisted
that a summer should be spent at a sanitarium in
Gleichenberg. Partially restored, he had imme-
diately, in direct opposition to all advice, re-entered
the service. The autumn manoeuvres had brought
on an inflammation of the lungs. How very ill
he was never entered his mind, in spite of his
speech to Stella. He thought he should live a
couple of years longer, and his great dread was
lest he should be pensioned off before the time
because of his invalid condition. The pains that
he took to maintain an upright military bearing
aggravated all the evils of his case.

There were a number of distinguished Austrians
in the Hotel Britannia, some few of them invalids,
most of them gay and pleasure-loving and well
pleased to spend a few weeks amid picturesque
surroundings and in pleasant society. The colonel
was beloved by all, and they eagerly welcomed
his pretty daughter,— even the ladies, whom the
colonel consulted as to the necessary reform in the
girl's wardrobe. She sat with her father in the
midst of them all at the upper end of the table,
the lower end, where the other inmates of the
hotel were crowded together, being the subject
of much merry scorn and stigmatized as ' the
menagerie.' Compassion for the daughter of the

A RUINED LIFE. gl

dying man deepened the sympathy called forth by
the young girl's grace and charm. Old gentlemen
rallied her upon her conquests, and the young
men paid her devoted attention. She had a special
friend in the handsome black-eyed prince Zino
Capito, who had an unusual share of time to be-
stow upon her since the latest mistress of his affec-
tions, the famous Princess Oblonsky, had just de-
parted for Petersburg to take possession of the
effects of her husband, suddenly deceased. He
daily sent Stella magnificent flowers with which
to adorn the hotel apartments for her father.
" Invalids are so fond of flowers," he would say,
with a smile that displayed his brilliant white
teeth. And when the weather was fine and the
colonel felt well enough, he would invite them to
take a sail in his cutter upon the blue Adriatic.

The colonel often spoke of his wife, longing to
see her. The last liaison — that which had been the
cause of a definite separation between himself and
his wife, had robbed him of his self-respect, had dis- ■
graced him in his children's eyes, and had snatched
from him every vestige of peace of mind — had
dissolved itself more than two years before. The
recollection of it disgusted him, but, like all men
who have no future, he gladly allowed his thoughts
to stray into the distant past. The wife from whom
he had parted, elderly, learned, with her slovenli-
ness and irritability, he had forgotten ; his memory
/

82 ERLACH COURT.

preserved the bride, in her light dress, bending
above his couch of pain ; he saw her on his mar-
riage-day in the flood of sunlight which streaming
through the tall window of his sick-room invested
with a glorious halo the golden cross upon the im-
provised altar.

One sunny day, as he was sailing in the Grand
Canal in a gondola vrith Stella, he pointed to a
beautiful old palazzo.

" There is where I lay wounded in '69, when
your mother came to nurse me. Those windows
there were mine."

In the evening of the same day, while Stella was
writing to her mother and he lay half dozing on a
lounge, he suddenly said, " Stella, do you think
your mother could make up her mind to come to
Venice with Franzi for a few weeks? She need
not be in the same house with us, if that would

bore her, but Tell her how much it would

please me to see her ; and," he added, with an em-
barrassed smile, " tell her I am really very ill :
perhaps that may induce her to come."

He awaited the reply to this letter with feverish
eagerness. In a week there arrived a package of
rather insignificant notices of a work of his wife's,
just published at her own expense ; two weeks later
the answer to the letter appeared.

" Well, what does your mother say?" asked the
colonel, as he observed Stella deciphering the

A RUINED LIFE. 83

almost illegible document. " Read it aloud to
me," he insisted : " you know everything that goes
on at home interests me. Is she coming ?"

But Stella, with tears in her eyes, and a burning
blush, stammered, " A letter must have been lost.
This one never even mentions our plan !"

The colonel turned away and looked out of the
window at the East India steamship.

" 'Tis a pity !" he sighed, in an undertone, aftei
a while. " I should have liked to ask her forgive-
ness."

Although upon Stella's arrival, when he felt
better, he had spoken continually and with ap-
parent satisfaction of his approaching death, from
the time when he began to decline rapidly he
avoided all reference to his condition. The
doctor visited him daily, sometimes oftener, and
would drink a glass of sherry with him while re-
counting his brilliant exploits in the way of res-
toration to health of patients whose condition was
even worse than the colonel's. But after a while
he grew less confident, and at last towards the end
of April he proposed an operation for the relief of
the lungs. The colonel eyed him fixedly, and sent
Stella out of the room.

" How long a time do you give me ?" he asked.
" Be frank. I am a soldier, and not afraid to die."

" Under the circumstances, a couple of months."

84 ERLACB COURT.

" I understand. Say nothing to my daughter,
but let matters take their course. It is all right."

That evening he sat writing for an hour, never
stirring from his writing-table. Suddenly he grew
restless, and ended by tearing up what he had
written.

" Stella, come here !" he called ; and as she came
to him, " Don't cry, darling, — it distresses me so
that I lose my wits ; and I need them all. I wanted
to write out my will ; but it is useless. Your little
property is secure, and you must divide the rest : I
cannot show you any partiality. It is terrible to
think of dying here, but, if it must be, do not
leave me in Venice, in a strange country. Bury
me near you in Zalow, — your mother knows the
spot; she will bear with me in the churchyard."
He took a little golden locket from his breast-
pocket. " Take care of that," he said : " it is the
locket your mother sent me in the campaign of
'59, and she must hang it around my neck before
they lay me in the grave. Beg her to do this. Do
you understand, Stella ?"

She sat opposite him at the little round table,
very pale, but perfectly upright and without a tear,
just as he would have had her.

"Yes, papa."

The next day was her birthday.

He gave her a golden bracelet to which was at-

A RUINED LIFE. 85

tached a crystal locket containing a four-leaved
clover.

" I cannot show you any partiality in my will,"
said he, " but wear that for my sake, darling. And
if ever heaven sends you some great joy, say to
yourself that your poor father prayed the dear God
that it might fall to your share !"

* * !(: * * * *

One day the colonel received a letter bearing a
Paris post-mark which seemed to depress him
greatly. All day after receiving it he was thought-
ful and taciturn. In the evening he wrote a long
letter, pausing from time to time to cough sadly.
As he folded it, Stella observed that he enclosed
money in it. After apparently reflecting for a
while, he drew from a case in his pocket a photo-
graph of ^Stella which had been taken in Venice,
gazed at it lovingly for a moment, seemed to
hesitate, and finally enclosed it also in the en-
velope with the letter. Looking up, he became
aware of his daughter's curious gaze, and suddenly
grew confused. He sealed his epistle with unneces-
sary care, and then all at once reached both hands
across the table and clasped Stella's between them,
saying,—

" You are wondering to whom I am sending my
darling's picture? To my youngest sister, your
aunt Eugenie. Do you remember her ? Yes ?
You used to love her, did you not ?"

86 ERLACH COURT.

"Very much, papa; but — I thought she was
dead."

The colonel turned away his head; after a
moment he drew Stella towards him, and said,
softly, " She is not dead : I cannot tell you about
her, — do not ask me. But — do not be hard to her,
and if you should ever meet her, speak a kind
word to her, for my sake."

He still went daily below-stairs in the lift to
take his meals, but he now dined at a small table
alone with Stella, after the table-d'hSte in the spa-
cious, lonely dining-hall. His frequent attacks of
coughing made him shun society. He dreaded
annoying others.

" I am no longer fit to mingle with my kind,
Stella," he would say. " My poor little butterfly,
it is tiresome to have such a father, is it not ?"

She, apparently, did not find it so. She desired
nothing beyond the privilege of taking care of him,
although she could be little more than a weak,
helpless child. By day she cheered him with her
lively talk, and at night if he stirred she was be-
side his bed in an instant in her long dressing-
gown, her little bare feet thrust into slippers, sup-
porting him in her arms if he coughed. Outside the
moon shone full above the church of Santa Maria
della Salute. Up from the garden was wafted
the odour of roses and syringas, while above the

A RUINED LIFE. 87

swampy atmosphere of the lagunes, and mingling
with the plash of waters at the base of the old
palaces, floated sweet, sad melodies, — the songs of
the evening minstrels of Venice, —

" Vorrai baciar i tuoi capelli neri,"

and

" Penso alia prima volta in cui volgesti
Lo sguardo soave in sino a me I"

Sometimes she would fall asleep sitting beside

his bed, her head- resting on his pillow.

*******

She grew to look like a shadow, so pale and
worn did she become. He did all that he could
to prevent her from coming to him at night, even
threatening to employ a nurse, but the threat was
never fulfilled.

In fact, he needed very little care but such as
her affection insisted upon giving him; he was
never confined to bed, only grew more and more
inclined to rest on a lounge during the day. He
was very thoughtful of others, and required but
little service at their hands up to the very last,
only seldom demanding any assistance in dressing.
He grew nervous and restless, longed for change,
yearned for his home with the fervent desire of a
dj'ing man. Before his mental vision hovered the
picture of the old mill, with its old-fashioned garden,
the small sparse forest with feathery underbrush
at the foot of the knotty oaks, and the gray waters

88 ERLACS COURT.

of the stream that wound through the autumn
mist between bald stony banks. He felt an insane
desire to see it all once more. For a long time
he endured this yearning in silence, not venturing
to express it; his wife had repulsed all advances
of his too decidedly. But, good heavens ! he
needed so little room, he would not trouble her
much; and then, besides, he was an old man, ill
unto death : his demands upon her personally were
restricted to a kind word now and then, a sym-
pathetic pressure of the hand !

Meanwhile, he grew worse and worse. Other
complications heightened the peril in which he
stood from the original disease. He complained
that he could no longer endure the food at the
hotel. His physician, who, like all physicians at
health-resorts, avoided as far as possible the annoy-
ance of having his patients die on his hands, strongly
advised a change of air.

Utterly dejected, his face turned away from her,
the dying man begged Stella to ask her mother if
he might come home.

But Stella had already asked, and shortly after-
wards an answer was received. The Baroness
wrote that now, as ever, she was prepared to do
her duty, — to receive him, and take care of him.
The mill was always open to him.

How he rejoiced in the prospect of home ! He
tried to help in the packing, but he was too

A RUINED LIFE. 89

languid. From his lounge he looked on while
Stella managed it all, and now and then with a
smile he would call her to him, only to stroke her
hands and look into her dear, loving eyes.

At last they set out. It was Easter Monday, in
the latter half of April; the bells were all ringing
solemnly, and dazzling sunshine lay upon the dark
waters of the lagunes.

All their acquaintance at the hotel surrounded
the father and daughter as they stepped into their
gondola. The little vessel was filled with flowers,
farewell tokens to Stella, and from the balqonies
of the hotel many a white kerchief waved adieu to
the travellers.

At first they journeyed by short stages, sometimes
taking a roundabout route for the sake of better
lodgings at night, stopping at Villach and at Gratz.
Then the colonel grew anxiously eager t(? be at
home ; he could no longer restrain his impatience.
From Gratz he insisted upon making one journey
of it, during which they had to change conveyances
frequently. Every one was kind, showing all man-
ner of attention to the sick man and his pretty,
loving, tender daughter. "With every hour he be-
came more weak and miserable. The last change
they made he could scarcely manage to descend
from the railway-carriage : two porters were obliged
to help him into the other coupe.

8*

90 ERLACS COURT.

It was one of those first-class half-coupes for
three occupants. Stella had not been able to pro-
cure for him, as hitherto, an entire carriage, and
we all know how deceptive is the ease of those
half-coupes.

The girl propped her father up with rugs and
cushions so that he found his position tolerable, and
he fell asleep. The afternoon passed, and twilight
came on. Greenish-yellow tints coloured the hori-
zon, and a small white crescent gleamed above the
darkening earth. Through the open window of
the coupe came the warm, balmy air of the spring.
Sometimes there mingled with the acrid, searching
odour of the undeveloped foliage the full, sweet fra-
grance of some blossoming fruit-tree. A scarcely
perceptible breeze swept gently and caressingly
over the meadows, and lightly rippled the sur-
face of the large quiet pond past which the train
rushed. Here and there the level landscape was
dotted by a village, — long barns and hay-ricks
covered with blackened straw, grouped irregularly
about some little church or castle among trees white
with blossoms or pale green with opening leaf-buds.

The colonel slept on. Suddenly Stella perceived
that she had lost her bracelet, — the one with the
four-leaved clover. She moved with a sudden
start. The colonel awoke.

" "Where are we ?" he asked.

" In an hour we shall be at home : it is only

A RUINED LIFE. 91

three stations off," she said, soothingly, with a
beating heart.

He bent his head, folded his hands, and pre-
pared to wait patiently. But it was impossible : a
deadly anguish assailed him. He looked round in
despair like some trapped animal.

"I am ill!" he cried. "I cannot tell what ails
me. I never felt so before !"

He coughed convulsively, but briefly, then tried
to move the cushions so that his head might find a
more comfortable resting-place.

"Take more room, papa; lay your head in my
lap," Stella entreated, tenderly.

He did so. He laid his head on her knees, and,
taking her hand in his, held it against his cheek.
The feverish unrest which had hitherto throbbed
throughout his frame subsided, giving place to a
delicious desire to sleep. For the last time the
vision rose upon his mind of the drunken father
being led home by his little girl; then all grew
indistinct. He dreamed ; he thought he was stag-
gering painfully through a bog, when some one
took him by the hand and led him across a narrow
bridge beneath which gleamed dark, slowly-flowing
water. He looked down ; it was Stella who was
leading him, but Stella as a little three-year-old
child, with her simple little white night-cap tied
beneath her chin, her rosy little bare feet show-
ing beneath the hem of her white night-gown.

92 , ERLACH COURT.

The bridge creaked beneath Mm ; he started and
awoke.

" Are we at home ?" he asked, scarce audibly.

" Almost, papa."

He pressed her hand to his lips.

The twilight deepened ; a dark transparent mist
seemed to veil the sky; the heavens showed as
if through thin mourning crape ; the broad shining
edges of the ponds and pools were dim; the
crescent moon grew brighter.

The train whizzed along faster than ever, sway-
ing from side to side on the sleepers. Suddenly
Stella felt her father start violently ; then he
heaved a brief sigh, like that which one gives when
surprised by anything unexpectedly delightful, or
when one is suddenly relieved of a heavy burden.
Then all was quiet, — quiet, — still as death ! She
bent over him and listened. In vain ! She felt his
hand grow cold and stiff in her own. A sudden
anguish took possession of her. She was afraid
in the darkness. Meanwhile, the lamp in the
coupe was lighted. Its crude, yellow light fell
upon the colonel's face.

"Was he asleep, or She held her own breath

to listen for his. Her heart beat as though it would
break ; no longer able to control her distress, she
called, " Papa !" then louder, " Papa ! Papa !" He
did not answer.

Thes, night-moths fluttered in through the open

A RUINED LIFE. 93

window and circled about the lamp ; the fragrance
of the blossoming cherry-trees filled the air; a
cracked church-bell in the distance hoarsely tolled
the Ave Maria.

In an undertone Stella prayed ' Our Father ;'
but in the midst of it she burst into a convulsive
fit of sobbing : she stroked and caressed the cold
cheeks, the thin gray hair, of the dead. She knew
that before many minutes were over he would be
taken from her, and with him everything dear to
her in life.

Onward rushed the train. The fiery sparks flew
like rain past the windows; there was a shrill
whistle, — then a stop. The journey's end was
reached.

Her mother and sister had come to the station
to meet them. When the conductor opened the
door, Stella sat motionless, her father's head resting
upon her knees.

It was dark. The stars gleamed in the blue-black
heavens.

Mute and pale as the dead, the Baroness walked
with Franziska and Stella behind her husband's
corpse the short distance between the station and
the mill. Some awkwardness on the part of the
bearers released one arm of the dead man, and the
hand fell and trailed on the earth. "With a quick
impetuous movement his wife took it in her own,

94 ERLACH COURT.

pressed the cold, dead hand to her lips, and held
it clasped in hers the rest of the way.

They laid the hody in the fresh, white bed, fra-
grant with lavender and orris, which had been pre-
pared for the sick man in the corner room he had
so loved, and in which the Baroness had placed a
bouquet of white hawthorn in honour of his arrival.

Two candles were burning at the head of the
bed.

Stella, who had, as it were, turned to marble, mov-
ing and speaking like an automaton, suddenly grew
restless. She seemed to have forgotten something,
and then looked for and found the locket which the
colonel had given her for her mother, and which she
had ever since worn around her neck. Very dis-
tinctly and monotonously she repeated the dying
man's message and request as she handed the locket
to her mother.

" He begs you will hang this around his neck
before they lay him in the grave; and once he
said he should have liked once more to ask your
forgiveness."

The Baroness took the little case from her
child's hand. She grew paler than ever, and
her eyes were those of one startled by an inward
vision of a long-forgotten past. The hawthorn
shed a delicious fragrance ; outside, the breeze of
spring sighed among the weeping-willows, the
brook gurgled and sobbed.

A RAINY EVENINa. 96

All in an instant the old, gray-haired woman's
hands began to tremble violently.

" Leave me alone with him for a moment," she
softly entreated ; and Stella slipped away.

In the terrible week ensuing upon that wretched
evening the Baroness treated Stella with an un-
var^'ing and altogether pathetic tenderness ; in that
week Stella learned to comprehend what an irre-
sistible charm this woman had been able to exer-
cise, — learned to understand how longing for her,
even after years of separation, had gnawed at the
heart of the dying man.

Then, to be sure, everything ran its old course,
with the sole exception that the widow never
uttered in the presence of her children one unkind
word with regard to their father, but often alluded
before them to his fine qualities.

CHAPTER VII.

A KAINT EVENING.

It has been raining all the afterhoon, — it is
raining still. The inmates of Erlach Court are
house-bound. Freddy, because of disobedience,
and in consequence of his sneezing thrice during
the afternoon, has been sent to bed early and sen-

96 ERLACB COURT.

tenced to a dose of elder-flower tea. His elders,
instead of spending the evening, as usual, in the
open air, are assembled in the drawing-room.

Stasy has for the twentieth time finished ' Paul
and Virginia,' and is now devoting herself to
another kind of literature, Zola's ' Joie de vivre,' —
of course only that she may testify to the horror
with which such a book must inspire her. Every
few minutes she utters an indignant ' no !' in an
undertone, or holds out the book to Katrine, one
hand over her blushing face, with " That is really
too bad !" Katrine, however, shows no inclination ■
to participate in her horror; she waves the book
aside, saying, " I do not care to read everything,"
and goes on crochetting at the afghan which is to
be ready for Freddy's approaching birthday.

The Baroness Meineck, meanwhile, is playing
chess, the only game which she does not despise,
with the general ; and the captain is idling.

Hitherto Stella has been singing to her own ac-
companiment, for the entertainment of the com-
pany, the pretty Italian songs she caught from the
gondoliers on the Canal. She is still sitting at
the piano, but she has stopped singing. Her slen-
der hands touch the keys of the instrument, play-
ing softly now and then a couple of bars from a
Chopin mazourka, as she looks up at Rohritz, who,
with both elbows on the top of the piano, leans to-
wards her, talking.

A RAINY EVENING. 97

" How interested Rohritz seems in his talk with
Stella ! he is quite transformed," Leskjewitsch re-
marks.

" He must answer when he is addressed," Stasy
rejoins, sharply, looking up from her ' Joie de vivre.'

" If he does not like to talk to the girl he can go
away," the captain observes. " She has not nailed
him to the piano."

" He-he ! she nails him with her eyes. Do you
not see how she ogles him ?" Stasy replies, with a
giggle. " I wonder what he is telling her."

" He is talking of Mexico, and of the phosphores-
cence of the tropical seas," the captain saj's, curtly.

" Indeed ? nothing more sentimental and personal
than that ? Since, then, it is not indiscreet, I think
I will listen." And, clapping to her book, Anastasia
stretches her long thin neck to hear.

It is very quiet in the large apartment ; except
for the monotonous drip of the rain outside, and
the click made by setting down the pieces on the
chess-board, there is nothing to interfere with those
who wish to listen to the conversation at the piano.

" Knowing only the poor little sparks which you
have seen twinkling through our l^orthern ocean
on warm September evenings, you can form no
idea of the gleaming splendour of the tropical seas,
Fraulein Meineck. The nights I spent on the deck
of the Europa on my Mexican voyage I never can
forget," says Rohritz.

98 ERLACU COURT.

Stella, who has hitherto shown a genuine interest
in all he has told her, suddenly assumes a whimsi-
cally wise air, and, striking a dissonant chord, asks,
" How old were you then ?"

" I really do not understand " he remarks, in

some surprise.

" Oh, there is no necessity for your understand-
ing, — only for replying," she rejoins, very calmly.

" Twenty-four."

It is one of her peculiarities, the result of her
desultory and imperfect training, that she often
plunges into a discussion of topics which every
well-trained girl should carefully avoid.

"Twenty-four," she repeats, thoughtfully; then,
pursuing her inquiries, " And were you in love ?"

He laughs in some confusion.

" You are putting me through an examination."

" I allow you the same privilege," she declares,
magnanimously. "Your answer sounds evasive.
Apparently you were in love. I merely wanted to
know, that I might judge how large a percentage
of romance I must deduct from your description.
All things considered, I can no longer accord any
genuine faith to your account of the phosphores-
cence of the tropical seas ; when people are in love
they see everything as by a Bengal light."

This sententious remark of course induces Rohritz
to put the laughing inquiry, " Do you speak from
experience. Baroness Stella ?"

A RAINY EVENINQ. 99

" Certainly," she replies, with a convincing ab-
sence of embarrassment. " I have been through
it all with my sister: she saw her artillery-officer
by a Bengal light, or she never would have left
science in the lurch for his sake, for, heaven
knows, he was just like all the rest, except that
in addition — he played the piano. Just fancy ! an
artillery-officer playing the piano ! — "Wagner, of
course ! Two dogs and a cat of ours went mad at
the sight. But Franzi assured me that her artil-
lery-officer's touch reminded her of Rubinstein.
So you see how trustworthy your descriptions are."

Rohritz laughs good-humouredly, then says,
"Even if I admit that on board the Europa I
still had a little touch of the disease you men-
tion, I must maintain that the delirious period had
passed."

" Hm ! one thing more," says Stella, pursuing still
more boldly the devious path upon which she has
entered. " I must know this precisely. "Were you
in love with a married woman ? JJn homme qui se
respeeie is never in love except with a married
woman, — at least in all the novels."

" Stella !" Stasy calls, horrified.

Even Rohritz, who has hitherto listened very
patiently to Stella's nonsense, seems unpleasantly
affected by this speech of hers. He looks pene-
tratingly into the young girl's eyes, and becomes
aware that he is gazing into depths of innocence.

100 ERLACH COURT.

Before he has time to say anything, Stasy calls
out, in a shocked tone, —

" Stella, you are frivolous to a degree "

Stella blushes crimson ; her eyes fill with tears ;
she makes awkward little motions with her hands
upon the keys, and plays a couple of bars from
Thalberg's feude in Cis-moll.

" Frivolous ? — frivolous ? But, Anastasia, I was
only jesting," she murmurs, and, turning to Rohritz
as if for protection, she adds, " It needed very
little logic to guess that, for if you had been in
love with a young girl there would have been no
need for you to be unhappy and to go sailing
about on tropical seas to distract your mind : you
could simply have married her."

"But suppose the young girl would not have
him?" the captain asks, merrily.

Stella looks first at Rohritz, then at her uncle,
and murmurs, " That never occurred to me."

A burst of laughter from the captain — laughter
in which Katrine joins heartily and Stasy ironi-
cally — is the reply to this confession.

" Acknowledge the compliment, E-ohritz ; come,
acknowledge it," Leskjewitsch exclaims in the
midst of his laughter.

But Rohritz maintains unmoved his serious,
kindly expression of countenance.

" It is not given to even the greatest minds to con-
template all possible contingencies," he says, dryly.

A LOVE-AFFAIR. 101

The Baroness Meineck, absorbed in her game, has
beard little, meanwhile, of what has been going on
about her ; she now suddenly remembers that it is
incumbent upon her to attend to her daughter's
training.

" I suppose you have been uttering some stu-
pidity again, Stella," she observes, coldly; "you
are incorrigible !"

"Poor mamma, she really is to be pitied," Stella
sighs, her sense of humour asserting itself in spite
of her ; " she has no luck with her children. Her
clever daughter commits stupidities, and her silly
daughter utters them. Which is the worse ?"

CHAPTER VIII.

A LOVB-AFFAIB,.

It rains the entire ensuing night, and far into the
forenoon of the next day. The hollows worn in
the stone pavement of the terrace are filled with
water, and form little brown ponds. The buff-
coloured castle has become orange-coloured, and
looks quite worn with weeping. The lawns reek
with moisture, and the Malmaison roses are pale
and draggled. Drowned butterflies float on the
surface of the pools, and fantastic wreaths of mist

9*

102 ERLAGH COURT.

curl about the foot of the mountains on the farther
side of the Save. 'So sun is to be seen amid the
gray-brown rack of clouds.

At last the rain falls more slowly ; the chirp of
a bird makes itself heard now and then ; a white
watery spot in the gray skies shows where the
sun is hiding ; slowly it draws aside the veil from
its beaming face, and between the torn and flying
masses of cloud the heavens laugh out once more,
blue and brilliant.

Tempted forth by the delightful change in the
weather, Katrine, Stasy, and Stella venture out to
take their daily bath in the ITeuring. In its normal
condition the Neuriug is a clear, sparkling stream,
flowing freely over its pebbly bed in constant angry
attack upon diverse fragments of rock which look
in magnificent disdain upon its impotent assaults.
A bath in the current between the largest of these
fragments of rock, where for the convenience of
the bathers a stout pole has been fixed, is a great
favourite among the delights of Erlach Court.

One shore of the stream slopes, flower-strewn
and verdant, nearly to the water's edge, and here
stands a roughly-constructed bath-house, from which
wooden steps lead down into the water.

Stella is sitting, in a very faded bathing-suit oi
black serge trimmed with white braid, on the lowest
of these steps, gazing sadly into the stream.

" I certainly did behave with unpardonable stu-

A LOVE-AFFAIR. 103

pidity yesterday," she says, twisting her golden hair
into a thick knot and fastening it up at the back
of her head with a rather dilapidated tortoise-shell
comb.

" When do you mean?" asks Stasy. "At lunch,
or in the evening, or early this morning ?"

"Yesterday evening, in the drawing-room,"
Stella replies, somewhat impatiently.

" That talk with Eohritz was a little reprehensi-
ble," Katrine says, with a laugh.

" In your place, after having been guilty of such
a breach of decorum, I could not make up my mind
to look him in the face," Stasy declares.

She slips into the water before the others, and is
now trying, holding by the pole between the rocks,
to tread the waves. The water hisses and foams, as
if resenting her trampling it down.

" Was it really so bad, Aunt Katrine ?" Stella
asks, changing colour.

Katrine leans towards her, gives her a kindly
pat on the shoulder, lifts her chin caressingly,
and says, —

" Well, your remarks were certainly not extraor-
dinarily pertinent, but I hardly think that Rohritz
took them ill. 'Tis hard to take things ill of such
a pretty, stupid, golden butterfly as you."

With which Katrine cautiously sets her slender
foot among the yellow irises and white water-lilies
on the edge of the water.

104 ERLACH COURT.

" It was terrible, then, — it must have been terri-
ble if even you thought it so !" says Stella, as the
tears rush to her eyes, and drop into the stream at
her feet.

"Don't be a child," Katrine consoles her : "the
matter was of no great consequence."

" Certainly not," Stasy adds, rather out of breath
from her exertions. " "What he thinks can make
no kind of difference to you, and he assuredly will
not report elsewhere your very strange remarks.
Probably they interest him so little that he will
soon forget all about them."

"Come and take your bath; you are wonderfully
averse to the water to-day," Katrine calls out to the
girl, who still sits sadly upon the wooden step, lost
in reflection. "Indeed you need not take your
stupidity so much to heart: it would have been
nothing at all, if there had not been rather an odd
story connected with Eohritz's sudden voyage
across the ocean."

"Ah!" exclaims Stella, paddling through the
water to her aunt, who, clinging to the pole, is now
enjoying the current. " Really, something ro-
mantic ?" she asks, curiously.

" There was nothing romantic in the aflTair save
his way of taking it," Katrine says, with a dry
smile, " and therefore the remembrance of this
piece of his past may be particularly distasteful to
him."

A LOVE-AFFAIR. 105

"Ah, but it was a married woman, was it not?
Do tell me !" Stella entreats, burning with curiosity.

" No, Solomon," Katrine replies : " it was a
young, unmarried woman, not so very young leither,
about twenty-six or twenty-seven, well born, a
Baroness von Fohren, a Livonian with Russian
blood in her veins, poor, ambitious, prudent, and
just clever enough to entertain a man without
frightening him. I saw her once, and but once, at
the theatre ; she was very beautiful, and I took an
extraordinary dislike to her. I am always ready to
applaud Judic in opSra-bouffe, and on grand prix day
in the Bois it interests me exceedingly to observe
the dames aux camellias through my opera-glass;
but nothing in this world so disgusts me as demi-
monde graces in a woman who ought to be a lady."

" I think you are a little severe in your judg-
ment of Sonja. She was not irreproachable in
her conduct," Stasy, who has for years main-
tained a kind of friendship with the person under
discussion, here interposes, — "not irreproachable,
but "

In all that touches her extremely strict ideas
of propriety and fitness, Katrine understands no
jesting.

" Her conduct was not only ' not irreproachable,'
it was revolting !" she exclaims. " If she interests
you, Stella, I can show you her photograph; at
one time you could buy it everywhere. She was

106 ERLACH COURT.

made to turn a young fellow's head. With regard
to women men really have such wretched taste."

" Oho, Katrine ! That sounds as if you said it
far depit," Stasy says, archly.

"I do not in the least care how it sounds,"
Katrine rejoins.

"Ah, tell me about Baroness Fohren," Stella
entreats.

" There is not much to tell. He had a love-affair
with her "

" A love-affair !" The words fall instantly from
Stella's lips, as one drops a burning coal from the
hand.

" Yes," Katrine goes on. " It happened in Baden-
Baden, where the Fohren was staying with a rela-
tive of hers. Rohritz paid her attention, and some-
thing or other gave occasion for a scandalous re-
port. In despair at having compromised the lady
of his affections, Rohritz instantly proposed to her,
and informed his father of his determination to
marry her. The old Baron, a man of unstained
honour, and imbued with a strong feeling of
responsibility in maintaining the dignity of the
Rohritz family, was rather shocked by this hasty
resolve, and, viewing the affair from a far less
romantic and far more sensible point of view than
that taken by his son, made inquiries into the
reputation of the lady in question, and — I cannot
exactly explain it to you, Stella, but the result of

A LOVE-AFFAIR. 107

his investigations was that he informed Edgar that
he need be troubled by no conscientious scruples on
behalf of this adventuress, and that he positively
refused his consent to the marriage."

" And then ?" asks Stella.

" I do not know precisely what happened," says
Katrine. " Jack told me all about it lately with
characteristic indignation, but I did not pay much
attention. The affair dragged on for a while.
Edgar, who was then most romantically inclined,
would not resign the Fohren, corresponded with
her, — how I should have liked to read those
letters ! — finally fought a duel with one of her
slanderers, and was severely wounded. "When he
recovered at last after several dreary months of
convalescence, he learned that the Fohren was
married to a wealthy Russian."

" How detestable !" exclaims Stella.

" Good heavens ! she had a practical mind,"
Stasy interposes. " I, to be sure, would on occa-
sion have married a tinker for love, but the young
women of the present day are not ashamed to de-
clare that their choice in marriage is influenced
by a box at the theatre, brilliant equipages, and
toilets from Worth. Old Rohritz would have dis-
inherited Edgar, or at all events allowed him a very
inadequate income, while Prince Oblonsky "

" Prince Oblonsky !" Stella hastily exclaims.
" Did you say Oblonsky ?"

108 ERLACH COURT.

"Yes; that was her husband's name, — Boris
Oblonsky. E'ow she is a widow, and still perfectly-
beautiful."

" Perfectly beautiful. I saw her in Venice at
the Princess Giovanelli's ball," says Stella, " ' with
brilliant and far-gazing eyes.' So that.was she !"
And with a slight anxiety she wonders to herself,
"A love-affair! "What is the real meaning of a
love-affair ?"

CHAPTER IX.

FOUND.

A SLEEPY afternoon quiet broods over Erlaeh
Court. Anastasia is sitting in the shade of an
arbour, embroidering a strip of fine canvas with
yellow sunflowers and red chrysanthemums. At
a little distance the Baroness Meineck, who has
volunteered to superintend Freddy's education
during her stay at Eriach Court, is giving the boy
a lesson in mathematics, making such stupendous
demands upon his seven-year-old capacity that,
ambitious and intelligent though the young student
be, he is beginning to grow confused with his in-
effectual attempts to follow the lofty flight of his
teacher's intellect. Stella, with whom mental ex-
citement is always combined with musical thirst,

FOUND. 109

is all alone in the drawing-room, playing from the
' Kreisleriana.' Her fingers glide languidly over
the keys. " A love-aflair ! What is the real mean-
ing of a love-affair ?" The question presents itself
repeatedly to her mind, and her veins thrill with
a mixture of curiosity, desire, and dread. Lack-
ing all intimacy with girls of her own age or
older than herself, who might have enlightened
her on such points, she has the vaguest ideas as to
much that goes on in the world. A love-affair is
for her something connected with rope ladders and
peril to life, like the interviews of Eoraeo and
Juliet, something that she cannot fancy to herself
without moonlight and a balcony. Her innocent
curiosity flutters to and fro, spellbound, about the
Baden-Baden episode in Rohritz's youth, as a
butterfly flutters above a dull pool the pitiful mud-
diness of which is disguised by brilliant sunshine,
the blue reflection of the skies, and a net-work of
pale water-lilies.

She could not tear her thoughts from Baden-
Baden, which she knew partly from Tourganief s
' Smoke,' partly in its present shorn condition from
her own experience, — Baden-Baden, which when
the Eohren and Rohritz were together there might
have been described as a bit of Paradise rented to
the devil.

" I wonder if she called him Edgar when they
were alone ?" the girl asked herself.

10

110 ERLACH COURT.

Her heart beat fast. It was as if she had by-
chance read a page of some forbidden book negli-
gently left lying open. Not for the world would
she have turned the leaf to read on, for, in common
with every pure, young girl, when she approached
the great mystery of love she was possessed by a
sacred timidity almost amounting to awe.

"I wonder if he was very unhappy?" she asks
herself. "Yes, he must have been;" Katrine had
told her that he grew gray with suffering. A great
wave of sympathy and pity wells up in her inno-
cent heart. " Yes, she was very beautiful !" she
says to herself.

She perfectly remembers her at the Giovanelli
ball, leaning rather heavily on her partner's arm,
her eyes half closed, her head inclined towards his
shoulder, and again in a solitary little anteroom
before a marble chimney-piece, below which a fire
glowed and sparkled, lifting both hands to her
head, an attitude that brought into strong relief the
magnificent outline of her shoulders and bust.
While thus busied with arranging her hair, she
smiled over her shoulder at a young man who was
leaning back in an arm-chair near, his legs crossed,
holding his crush-hat in both hands, regarding her
with languid looks of admiration.

This was Stella's friend, black-eyed Prince Zino
Capito. All Venice was then talking of the Prince's
adoration of the beautiful Livonian.

FOUND. Ill

" "What is it about her that makes every man fall
in love with her ?" Stella asks herself. And a sud-
den pang of something like envy assails her inno-
cent heart. Ah, she would like just one taste of
the wondrous poison of which all the poets sing.
" Will any one ever be in love with me ?" she asks
herself. " Ah, it must be delicious, — delicious as
music and the fragrance of flowers in spring; and
I should so like to be happy for once in my life,

even were it for only a single hour. But "

Her eyes fill with tears : what has she to do with
happiness ? it is not for her ; of that she has been
convinced from the moment when on that last mel-
ancholy journey with her father she found she had
lost her little amulet. Poor papa ! he would gladly
have bestowed happiness upon her from heaven,
and instead he had taken her happiness down with
him into the grave. Poor, dear papa !

The breath of the roses outside steals in through
the closed blinds, sweet and oppressive. Among
the flowers below awakened to fresh beauty, the
bees hum loudly, plunging into the honeysuckles,
and gently as if with reverence touching the pale
refined beauty of the Malmaison roses, while above
the acacias and lindens they are swarming.

^ 3fC ^ Tf* 't^ 'K 'H

Rohritz has been occupied in writing his usual
quarterly duty-letter to his married brother. As
with all men of his stamp, a letter is for him a

112 ERLACH COURT.

great undertaking, accomplished wearily from a
strict sense of duty.

Seated at the writing-desk of carved rosewood
bestowed upon him long since by an aunt and pro-
vided with many secret drawers and with all kinds
of silver-gilt and ivory utensils of mysterious use-
lessness, he covers four pages of English writing-
paper with his formal, regular handwriting, and
then looks for his seal wherewith to seal his epistle.
Rummaging in the various drawers- and receptacles
of the desk, he comes across a small bracelet, — a
delicate circlet to which is suspended a crystal
locket containing a four-leaved clover.

For a moment he cannot recall how he became
possessed of the trifle. Could it have been the gift
of some sentimental female friend? In vain he
taxes his memory : .no, it certainly is no memento
of the kind. He swings it to and fro upon his
finger, letting the sunshine play upon it, and then
first perceives a cipher graven on the crystal, a
Roman S, surmounting a star. Involuntarily he
murmurs below his breath, " Stella !" and suddenly
remembers where he found the bracelet, — on the
red velvet seat of a first-class coupe, three years
before, towards the end of April.

He had advertised it in the Viennese and Gratz
newspapers, doing his best to restore the parie-
bonheur to its owner, but in vain.

" In fact " In an instant he recalls what

FOUND. 113

Leskjewitsch had told him of Stella's sad journey
with her father. He smiles, leaves his letter un-
sealed, goes to the window, looks down into the
garden, sees Stasy busy with her chrysanthemums,
hears, proceeding from a garden-tent at a little
distance, decorated with red tassels, the contralto
tones of the Baroness Meineck and the depressed
and weeping replies of her pupil.

Through the languid summer air glide the harsh,
forced modulations of the 'Kreisleriana.'

" Ah !" He wends his way to the drawing-room.
There, in the romantic half-light that prevails, all
the blinds and shades being closed to shut out the
hot July sun, he sees a light figure seated at the
piano. At his entrance she turns her golden head.

"Are you looking for any one ?" she asks, in the
midst of JS'o. 6 of the ' Kreisleriana,' rather con-
fused by his entrance, and trying furtively to brush
away the tears that still show upon her cheeks.

" Yes ; I was looking for you, Baroness Stella."

" For me ?" she asks, in surprise.

" Yes ; I wanted to ask you something."

" Well ?" She takes her hand from the keys
and turns round towards him, without rising.

" Three years ago I found a bracelet in a rail-
way-coupe. Coming across it by chance to-day,
I perceive that it is marked with your cipher.
Does it belong "

But Stella does not allow him to finish ; deadly
h 10*

114 ERLACH COURT.

pale, and trembling in every limb, sbe has sprung
up and taken the bracelet from his hand.

" Oh, you cannot tell all you restore to me with
this bracelet !" she exclaims, and in her inexpres-
sible delight she holds out to him both her hands.

Are they so absorbed in each other as not to ob-
serve the apparition which presents itself for an
instant at the drawing-room door, only to glide
away immediately ?

Meanwhile, in the garden a thrilling drama is
being enacted. So thoroughly bewildered at last
by the Baroness's system of instruction that his
brain refuses to respond to even the small demands
which her growing contempt for his capacity per-
mits her to make upon it, poor Freddy feels so
thoroughly ashamed of his inability that he lifts
up his voice and weeps aloud. When his mother
hastens to him to learn what has so distressed her
son, he throws his arms around her waist and cries
out, in a tone of heart-breaking despair, " Mamma,
mamma, what will become of me? I am so
stupid, — so very stupid !"

Katrine finds this beyond a jest. " I must en-
treat you not to trouble yourself further with my
boy's education, if this is the only result you
achieve, Lina," she says, provoked, whereupon the
Baroness replies, angrilj', —

" I certainly shall not insist upon continuing
my lessons, especially as never in my life have I

FOUND. 115

found any one so obtuse of comprehension in the
simplest matters as your son."

" Ah, you insinuate that my boy is a blockhead.
Let me assure you, however "

In what mutual amenities the conversation of
the sisters-in-law would have culminated must re-
main a subject of conjecture; for at this moment
Stasy comes tripping along, saying, with an af-
fected smile, —

" How wonderfully one can be mistaken as to
character in others ! Yes, yes, still waters — still
waters. Ha ! ha !"

" What do you mean with your still waters ?"
Katrine asks, contemptuously.

" Hush !" And Stasy archly lays her finger on
her lip with a significant glance towards the boy,
who with his arms still about his mother's waist
is drying his tears upon her sleeve.

" Run into the house, Freddy, and bathe your
eyes, and then we will take a walk," Katrine says
to her little son. " What is the matter ?" she
then asks, coldly, turning to Stasy.

" Rohritz — aha ! — we all thought him an extinct
volcano. I, notoriously reserved as I am, per-
mitted myself to tease him slightly now and then,
thinking him entirely harmless. And now, now
I find him in the yellow drawing-room, tete-cL-tUe
with Stella, both her hands in his, gazing into
her lifted eyes, deep in a flirtation, — a flirtation ci

116 ERLACH COURT.

V Amerieaine, — quite beyond what is permissible.
Really perilous !"

" If you thought the situation perilous for Stella,
I really do not understand why you did not inter-
rupt the ttte-d,-t^te" says Katrine, severely.

" It was no affair of mine," Stasy replies. " How
was I to know that so sentimental an interview
would not end in an offer of marriage? Improba-
ble, to be sure, for Rohritz is too cautious for
that, — even although he allows himself on a sum-
mer afternoon to be so far carried away as to kiss
the hand of a pretty girl in a tite-ci-iiie with her."

Her eyes sparkling with anger, the Baroness
hurries into the castle and up-stairs to the drawing-
room.

" Stella, what are you about here ? Have you
nothing to do ? ~ Come with me !"

In terror Stella follows her mother as she strides
on to their apartments. There the Baroness closes
the door behind her, and, seizing her daughter by
the arm, says, —

" Must I endure the disgrace of having my child
conduct herself so shamelessly in a strange house
that strangers inform me that she is flirting d
V Amerieaine with young men ?"

" I, mother ! I " exclaims Stella, her eyes

riveted upon her mother's angry face. "But I

assure you Mother, mother, how can you say

such dreadful things to me?" And the girl bursts

FREDDY'S BIRTHDAY. 117

out sobbing. " It is Stasy that has accused me.
How can you attach any importance to what she
says ?"

" No matter what Stasy says. Your conduct is
extraordinary."

" But, mother, mother "

" What have you to do with ttte-d,-tetes with
young men?" the Baroness asks, with dramatic
effect, — the same Baroness who sent her child to
a singing-teacher three times a week without an
escort. " It is improper, — very improper. What
must Rohritz think of you ? You will come to
be like your aunt Eugenie !"

CHAPTER X.

FREDDY S BIRTHDAY.

It is not to be denied that Stella's behaviour is
always unconventional and sometimes very thought-
less. On the whole, however, her little indiscre-
tions do not detract from her great natural charm.
The Baroness, not having taken any pains with her
education, never of herself notices these little in-
discretions. But if a stranger alludes to them her
maternal ambition is profoundly outraged, and the
inevitable result is the bursting of a thunder-storm

118 ERLACH COURT.

above Stella's innocent head, a storm always sure
to culminate in the fearful words, " You will come
to be like your aunt Eugenie !"

The real meaning of these words Stella never
understands, since no one has ever told her what
has become of her aunt Eugenie, but she knows
that their significance must be terrible. Cowed
and unhappy, she glides about after every such ex-
plosion as if guilty of some crime, until her
bright animal spirits gain the upper hand and she
begins afresh to talk and to be thoughtless.

Her mother's last indignant remonstrance puts
an end to all the kindly freedom of her intercourse
with Eohritz. She avoids him so evidently, is so
stiff" and monosyllabic with him, that he at last
questions the captain as to the cause of this change,
and receives from his friend a distinct explanation.

" It is indeed no great bliss to be my sister's
daughter," the captain concludes. " Beneath her
mother's intermittent care Stella seems to me like
a noble, sensitive horse beneath a very bad rider.
I hate to look on at such cruelty to animals, and
I should be heartily glad to find a good husband
for her before her mother entirely ruins her. He
will have to be a good, noble-hearted fellow, clever
and gentle at once, with a firm, light hand, and
plenty of money, for the child has nothing, — more's
the pity."

FREDDY'S BIRTHDAY. Hg

The time never flies faster than in summer : with
no hurry, but with graceful celerity, the lovely July
days glide past in their rich robes of dark green
and sky-blue. The genii of summer play about
us, fling roses at our feet, and strew the grass with
diamonds. They offer us happiness, show it to us,
whisper insinuatingly, " Take it, — ah, take it."
And some of us would gladly obey, but their hands
are bound, and others remember how they once, on
just such enchanting summer days, stretched out
their hands in eager longing for the roses, and at
their touch the roses vanished, leaving only the
thorns in their grasp, and they turn away with a
mistrustful sigh. Others, again, examine the offered
joy hesitatingly, critically, refuse to decide, linger
and wait, and before they are aware the beneficent
genii have vanished ; autumnal blasts have driven
them away with the roses and the foliage. The
sun shines, no longer, the skies are gray, and a cold
wind sings a shrill song of scorn in their ears.

' Passing ! — passing!' One week, two weeks
have passed since the Meinecks arrived at Erlach
Court. Each day Rohritz has found Stella more
charming, each day he has paid her more atten-
tion, but his real intimacy with her has increased
not one whit.

To-day is Freddy's birthday. Stella has presented
him with a gorgeous paint-box; he has received all
sorts of gifts and toys from his parents and rela-

120 ERLACB COURT.

tives, and he has, of course, been more than usually
petted and caressed by his father and mother. His
delight is extreme when he learns that a picnic has
been arranged for the day in his honour.

iN'one of the older inmates of the castle take anj'
special pleasure in picnics ; least of all has Katrine
any liking for these complicated undertakings.
But Freddy adores them ; and what would Katrine
not do to give her darling a delight ?

It is Sunday. A gentle wind murmurs melodi-
ously through the dewy grass, and sighs among the
thick foliage of the lindens like a dreamy echo of
the sweet monotonous tolling of bells that comes
from the gleaming white churches and chapels on
the mountain-slopes on the other side of the Save.
Prom the open windows of the dining-room can be
seen across the low wall of the park the brown
peasant- worn en, with pious, expressionless faces,
and huge square white headkerchiefs knotted at
the back of the neck, marching along the road to
church. Above, in the dark-blue sky myriads of
fleecy clouds are flying, and swarms of airy blue
and yellow butterflies are fluttering about the Mal-
maison roses and over the beds of heliotrope and
mignonette in front of the castle.

There has been rain during the previous night,
but not much, and the whole earth seems decked in
fresh and festal array. The sun shines bright and
golden, but the barometer is falling, — a depressing

FREDDY'S BIRTHDAY. 121

fact which Barou Eohritz announces to all present
at the birthday-breakfast.

Freddy's face grows long, and Katrine exclaims,
hastily, " Your barometer is intolerable !" She
has no idea of sacrificing her child's enjoyment to
the whims of an impertinent barometer.

" Yes, Edgar, your barometer is a great bore,"
the captain remarks.

Whoever presumes to express an unpleasant or
even inconvenient truth is sure to be regarded as
a great bore.

Meanwhile, Katrine has stepped out upon the
terrace and convinced herself that the weather is
superb. Annihilating by a glance Rohritz and his
warning, she orders the servant who has just
brought in a plate of hot almond-cakes to have
the horses harnessed immediately.

Rohritz placidly twirls his moustache, and re-
marks, as he rises from table, that he will strap
up his mackintosh. A few minutes afterwards the
carriages, a light-built drag and a solid landau, are
announced. To the drag are harnessed a couple
of fiery young nags, while in default of the carriage-
horses, which have been ailing for a few days, the
landau is drawn by a pair of hacks, by no means
spirited or prepossessing in appearance.

The guests stand laughing and talking on the
sweep before the castle. Katrine's voice is heard
giving orders ; Stella is busy helping the captain
IT 11

122 ERLACH COURT.

to pack away in the carnages the plentiful store
of provisions.

Swathed in airy clouds of muslin, sweetly suf-
fering, but resisting the united entreaties of all the
rest that she will stay at home, Anastasia leans
against the vine-wreathed balustrade of the terrace,
a vinaigrette held to her nose.

Before Katrine has quite finished issuing her
commands, the captain with Stella mounts upon
the front seat of the drag, the general taking his
place beside Freddy on the back seat. "Want of
room obliges the captain to act as driver himself.
He gathers up the reins, and his steeds start oiF
gaily. The rest of the company settle themselves
as best they can in the landau, the Baroness and
Fraulein von Gurlichingen on the back seat, Rohritz
with Katrine opposite them. A few anxious mo-
ments ensue, in which every one asks the rest if
they have not forgotten something. The servants
bring the due quantity of rugs, plaids, umbrellas, and
opera-glasses, and the coachman is bidden to drive
off. The hacks sadly stretch out their long, skinny
legs, and trot laboriously after the brisk drag.

In Reierstein, at the foot of a romantic ruin, —
no picnic is conceivable without a ruin, — a dejeuner
a la fourehetie is to be spread in the open air.
Dinner, which has been postponed from six to
seven, is to be taken in Erlachhof on the return
of the party.

FREDDV'S BIRTHDAY. 123

Katrine is right : the day is superb, — a fact of
which she frequently reminds the possessor of the
odious barometer.

""Wait until, evening before declaring the day
fine," Rohritz rejoins, sententiously. " The sun's
rays sting like harvest-flies : that is a bad sign."

" Oh, you are always foreboding evil," Katrine
says, with irritation.

Rohritz bows, and silence ensues. Katrine looks
preoccupied, wondering whether the mayonnaise
has not been forgotten at the last moment. Stasy
flourishes her vinaigrette languishingly, and the
Baroness, who has been hitherto absorbed in her
own reflections, suddenly arouses sufficiently to
utter in her deepest tones an astounding observa-
tion upon the imperfections of creation and the
superfluity of human existence, whereupon Rohritz
agrees with her, seconding her views with great
ability in a Schopenhauer duet in which she main-
tains the principal part. She asserts that mar-
riage, since it is a means for the continuance of
the human species, should be avoided by all re-
spectable people, while Rohritz suggests the in-
vention of a tremendous dynamite machine which
shall shatter the entire globe, as a fitting problem
for the wits of future engineers.

Meanwhile, the sunbeams gleam warm and
golden upon the luxuriant July foliage, and tremble
upon the clear ripples of the trout-stream plashing

124 ERLACH COVRT.

merrily along by the roadside. In the white eupa
of the wild vines that drape with tender grace the
willows and elders on the banks of the-little stream,
prismatic drops of dew are shining. The tall
grasses wave dreamily, and at their feet peep out
pink, yellow, and blue wild flowers, while the air is
filled with the melody of birds.

Our two pessimists, however, take no note what-
ever of these trifles.

The road grows stony and steep; the hacks drag
along more and more wearily and at last come to a
stand-still. Anastasia becomes greener and greener
of hue, and sinks back half fainting. " Ah, I feel
as if I should die !"

In hopes of lightening the carriage and of avoid-
ing the sight of Fraulein von Gurlichingen's distress,
Rohritz proposes to alight and pursue on foot the
shorter path to Reierstein, with which he is familiar.

CHAPTER XL

CRABBING.

Meanwhile, the captain's spirited steeds have long
since reached the appointed spot. Horses and car-
riage have been disposed of at the inn of a neigh-
bouring village. It is an excellent hostelry, and
would have been a very pleasant place in which to

CRABBING. 125

take lunch, but, since the delight of a picnic culmi-
nates, as is well known, in preparing hot, unappe-
tizing viands at a smoky fire in the open air and
in partaking of excellent cold dishes in the most
uncomfortable position possible, the party imme-
diately leave the village, and Stella, Freddy, and
the two gentlemen, with the help of a peasant-lad
hired for the purpose, drag out the provisions to
the ruin, where the table is to be spread, in the
shade of a romantic old oak.

Directly across the meadow flows the stream,
now widened to a considerable breadth, which had
rippled at intervals.by the roadside.

While Lcskjewitsch and the general, both re-
signed martyrs to picnic pleasure, set about col-
lecting dry sticks for the fire, Freddy, who has
instantly divined crabs in the brook, having first
obtained his father's permission, pulls off his
shoes and stockings and wades about among the
stones and reeds in the water.

" You look, little one, as if you wanted to go
crabbing too," says the captain to Stella, noting
the longing looks which the girl is casting after
the boy.

" Indeed I should like to," she replies, nodding
gravely; " but would it be proper, uncle ?"

" Whom need you regard ? — me, or that old
fellow," indicating over his shoulder the general,
"who is half blind?"

11*

126 ERLACH COURT.

Stella laughs merrily.

"I certainly should not mind him; but" — she
colours a little — " suppose the rest were to come."

" Ah ! you're thinking of Eohritz," says the
captain. " Make your mind easy: if I know those
steeds, it will take them one hour longer to drag
the carriage up here, and by the time they arrive
you can have caught thirty-six Lay brook crabs.
As soon as I hear the carriage coming I will warn
you by whistling our national hymn. So away
with you to the water, only take care not to cut
your feet."

A minute or two later, Stella, without gloves,
the sleeves of her gray linen blouse rolled up above
her elbows over her shapely white arms, and
gathering up her skirts with her left hand, while
with the right she feels for her prey, is wading in
the sun-warmed water beside Freddy, moving with
all the attractive awkwardness of a pretty young
girl whose feet are cautiously seeking a resting-
place among the sharp stones, and who, although
extremely eager to capture a great many crabs, has
a decided aversion to any spot that looks green and
slimy.

The treacherous luck of all novices at any game
is well known. Stella's success in her first essay
at crabbing is marvellous. She goes on throwing
more and more of the crawling, sprawling mon-
sters into the basket which Freddy holds ready.

CRABBING. 127

Her hat prevented her from seeing clearly, so she
has tossed it on the bank, and her hair, instead of
being neatly knotted up, hangs in a mass of tan-
gled gold at the back of her neck, nearly upon
her shoulders, the sunbeams bringing out all sorts
of glittering reflections in its coils. She is just
waving a giant crustacean triumphantly on high,
with, "Look, Freddy, did you ever see such a
big one !" when — the blood rushes to her cheeks,
her brown eyes take on a tragic expression of dis-
may, and, utterly confused, she drops the crab and
her skirts.

" Am I intruding ?" asks the new arrival, Roh-
ritz, smiling as he notices her confusion.

In her hurry to get out of the brook, she forgets
to look where she is stepping, and suddenly an
expression of pain appears in her face, and the
water about her feet takes on a crimson tinge.

"You have cut your foot," Rohritz calls, seri-
ously distressed, helping her to reach the shore,
where she sits down on the stump of a tree. The
captain and the general are both out of sight, and
the blood runs faster and faster from a considerable
cut in the girl's foot. " We must put a stop to that,"
says Eohritz, with anxiety that is almost paternal,
as he dips his handkerchief in the brook. But
with a deep blush Stella hides her foot beneath the
hem of her dress, now, alas ! soiled and muddy.
" Be reasonable," he insists, adopting a sterner

128 ERLACH COURT.

tone : " there should be no trifling with such
things. Remember my gray hair : I might be
your father." And he kneels down, takes her
foot in his hands, and bandages the wound care-
fully and skilfully. In spite of his boasted gray
hair, however, it must be confessed that he experi-
ences odd sensations during this operation, the foot
is so pretty, slender, but not bony, soft as a rose-
leaf, and so small withal that it almost fits into the
hollow of his hand.

Still more beautiful than her foot is her fair
dishevelled head, so turned that he sees only a
vague profile, just enough to show him how the
blood has mounted to her temples, colouring cheek
and neck crimson.

" Thanks !" she says, in a somewhat defiant tone,
drawing the foot up beneath her dress after he has
finished bandaging it. Then, looking at him with
a lofty, rather mistrustful air, she asks, " How old
are you, really ?"

" Thirty-seven," he replies, so accustomed to her
strange questions that they no longer surprise him.

" How could you say that you might be my
father ? You are at least five years too young !"
she exclaims, angrily. " And why did you appear
so suddenly ?"

"I repent my intrusion with all my heart,"
Rohritz assures her. " The horses seemed so tired
that I thought three people a sufficient burden

DISASTER. 129

for them, and so I alighted and came by the path
across the fields."

At this moment shrill and clear across the
meadow from the forest bordering it come the
notes of ' God save our Emperor !' and immedi-
ately afterwards is heard the slow rumble of the
approaching carriage.

" There, you see !" says Stella, still out of humour.
" My uncle promised me to whistle that as soon as
the carriage could be heard ; but no one expected
you on foot, and you came just twenty minutes
too soon !"

CHAPTER XII.

DISASTER.

All that the Baroness says when she hears of
Stella's mishap is, " I cannot lose sight of you for
an instant that you are not in some mischief!"

Stella only sighs, " Poor mamma !" while Stasy,
still livid as to complexion, finds herself strong
enough to glance with great significance first at
Stella and then at Rohritz. "When she hears that
it is Eohritz that bandaged Stella's foot she vi-
brates between fainting and a fit of laughter. She
calls Rohritz nothing but ' my dear surgeon,' ac-

130 ERLACH COURT.

companying the exquisite jest with a sly glance
from time to time.

His enjoyment of this brilliant wit may be im-
agined.

The general grins; the Baroness looks angry;
the captain and Katrine are the only ones who
jobserve nothing of Rohritz's annoyance or Anas-
tasia's jest; they are entirely absorbed in reproach-
ing each other for the absence of the corkscrew,
which has been forgotten.

Yet, in spite of the double mischance thus at-
tending the beginning of the dejeuner sur I'herbe,
all turns out pleasantly enough. The general re-
members that his pocket-knife is provided with a
corkscrew; the married pair recover their serenity;
the crabs, in spite of many obstacles, are half
cooked at the fire, and — for Freddy's sake — pro-
nounced excellent; the cold capon and the pdte de
foie gras leave nothing to be desired ; the mayon-
naise has not been forgotten, and the champagne
is capital.

Hilarity is so fully restored that when the car-
riages, ordered at five o'clock, make their appear-
ance, the company is singing in unison ' Prince
Eugene, that noble soldier,' to an exhilarating
accompaniment played by the general with the
back of a knife on a plate.

Baron Rohritz, who is not familiar with ' Prince
Eugene,' and who consequently listens in silence

DISASTER. 131

to that inspiring soiag, glances critically at a small
point of purple cloud creeping up from behind
the mountains.

" My barometer " he begins ; but Katrine

interrupts him irritably : " Ah, do spare us with
your barometer !"

A foreign element suddenly mingles with the
merry talk. A loud blast of wind howls through
the mighty branches of the old oak, tearing away
a handful of leaves to toss them as in scorn in the
dismayed faces of the party; a tall champagne-
bottle falls over, and breaks two glasses.

"It is late; we have far to go, and the hacks
are scarcely trustworthy," the captain remarks.
" I think we had better begin to pack up."

Preparations to return are made hurriedly. The
general begs for a place in the landau, as his back-
bone is sorely in need of some support, and Freddy
also, who is apt to catch cold, is taken into the
carriage from the open conveyance.

'So one expresses any anxiety with regard to
Stella; she slips into her brown water-proof and
is helped up upon the box of the drag, where the
captain takes his place beside her, while Rohritz
gets into the seat behind them. They set off.
Once more the sun breaks forth from among the
rapidly-darkening masses of clouds, but the air is
heavy and in the distance there is a faint mutter
of thunder.

132 ERLACH COURT.

"Wonderful to relate, the hired steeds follow
the sorrels with the most praiseworthy rapidity,
due perhaps to the fact that the coachman makes
the whip whistle uninterruptedly about their long
ears. Katrine, who is sitting with her back to the
horses, sees nothing of this, but rejoices to find
the pace of the hacks so much improved. Sud-
denly Stasy in a panic exclaims, " Katrine !"

" What is the matter ?"

" The driver — oh, look— — "

Frau von Leskjewitsch turns, and sees the fat
driver from the village swaying to and fro on bis
seat like a pendulum. The carriage bumps against
a stone, the ladies scream, Ereddy, who had fallen
asleep between the Baroness and Anastasia, wakens
and asks in a piteous voice what is the matter; the
general springs up, tries to take the reins from the
driver, and roars as loud as his old lungs will per-
mit, " Leskjewitsch !"

The captain does not hear.

"Papa!" "Jack!" "Captain!" echo loud and
shrill, until the captain, told by Eohritz to turn
and look, gives the reins to his old comrade, jumps
down from the drag, and runs to the assistance
of his family. An angry scene ensues between
him and the driver, who tries to withhold from
him the reins, — is first violent, then maudlin, stam-
mering in his peasant-patois asseverations of his
entire sobriety, until the captain actually drags

DISASTER. 133

him down from the box and with a volley of abuse
flings him into a ditch. Katrine is attacked by a
cramp in the ja'y from excitement. The Baroness
ponders upon the etymological derivation of a
word in the patois of the country which she has
fished out of the captain's torrent of invective,
and repeats it to herself in an undertone. The
general folds his hands over his stomach with
resignation, and sighs, " Dinner is ordered for
seven o'clock." Freddy's blue eyes sparkle merrily
in the general confusion, and Stasy, since there is
positively no audience for her aflectation, conducts
herself in a perfectly sensible manner. In the
midst of the excitement, one of the hacks deliber-
ately lies down, and thus diverts the captain's at-
tention from the driver.

" By Jove, our case is bad, — worse than might
be supposed. These screws can scarcely stir," he
exclaims : " that drunken scoundrel has beaten
them half to death. How we are to get home God
knows : these brutes cannot possibly drag this four-
seated Noah's ark. We had better change horses.
Ho! Eohritz?"

" What is the matter ?"

" Unharness those horses !"

In a short time the exchange is effected. The
sorrels in their gay trappings are harnessed to the
heavy landau, the long-legged hacks to the drag.

It is beginning to rain, and to grow dark.
12

134 ERLACH COURT.

Freddy is nearly smothered in plaids by his
anxious mamma. The captain mounts on the box
of the four-seated vehicle, and calls to Rohritz, —

" Drive to Wolfsegg, the village across the ferry.
We will await you with fresh horses, at the inn
there. Adieu."

And the captain gives his steeds the rein, and
trots gaily past the drag.

" Tiens ! Stella is left tete-cL-tete with Rohritz,"
Stasy whispers.

" And what of that ?" Katrine says, rather crossly.
" He will not kill her."

" No, no ; but people might talk."

" Pshaw ! because of an hour's drive !"

"Wait and see how punctual they are," Stasy
giggles maliciously.

"Anastasia, you are outrageous!" Katrine de-
clares.

" Wait and see," Anastasia repeats ; " wait and
see."

CHAPTER XIII.

IDYLLIC.

"Ake you well protected, Fraulein Stella?"
Rohritz asks his young companion, after a long
silence.

" Oh, yes," says Stella, contentedly wrapping

IDYLLIC. 135

herself in her shabby, thin, twenty-franc water-
proof and pulling the hood over her fair head, " I
am quite warm. It was a good thing that you gave
us warning, or I should certainly have left my
water-proof at home."

" You see an ' old bore,' as Les called my barom-
eter, can be of use under certain circumstances."

"Indeed it can," Stella nods assent; "but it
would have been a pity to give up the picnic at the
bidding of your weather-prophet, for, on the whole,
it was a great success."

" Are you serious ?" Rohritz asks, surprised.

" Why should you doubt it?"

" Why, you have had less cause than any of us
to enjoy the day. You have cut your foot, have
spoiled a very pretty gown, and are in danger, if it
goes on pouring thus, of being wet to the skin in
spite of your water-proof."

" That is of no consequence," she declares from
out the brown hood, her fair dripping face laugh-
ing up at him through the rain and the gathering
darkness. " Where is the harm in getting a little
wet ? It is quite delightful."

He is silent. She is to be envied for her gay,
happy temperament, and she looks wonderfully
pretty in spite of her grotesque wrap.

]!^ot the faintest breath of wind diverts from the
perpendicular the downfall of rain. The road leads
between two steep wooded heights, whence are

136 ERLACH COURT.

wafted woodland odours both sweet and acrid. In-
tense peace — an unspeakably beneficent repose —
reigns around ; in grave harmonious accord blend
the rushing of the brook, the falling of the rain,
and the low whisper and murmur of the dripping
leaves, informing the silence with a sense of enjoy-
ment.

" How beautiful ! how wonderfully beautiful !"
Stella exclaims ; her soft voice has a strange power
to touch the heart, and in its gayest tones there
always trembles something like suppressed tears.

" Yes, it is beautiful," Eohritz admits, "but" —
with a glance of mistrust at the wretched hacks —
" when we shall reach Wolfsegg heaven alone
knows !"

Is he so very anxious to reach Wolfsegg ? To be
frank, no ! He feels unreasonably comfortable in
this rain-drenched solitude, beside tbis pretty fair-
haired child; he cannot help rejoicing in this tSie-
a-tUe. Since the day when Stella thanked him
with perhaps exaggerated warmth for returning her
locket, she has never seemed so much at her ease
with him as now.

The desire assails him to probe her pure inno-
cent nature without her knowledge, — to learn some-
thing of her short past, of her true self

Meanwhile, he repeats, " But it is beautiful, —
wonderfully beautiful !"

The wretched horses draa: alons: more and more

IDYLLIC. 137

laboriously. Rohritz has much ado to prevent their
droopiijg their gray noses to the grouud to crop
the dripping grass that clothes each side of the
road in emerald luxuriance.

" Delightful task, the driving of these lame
hacks !" he exclaims. " I can imagine only one
pleasure equal to it, — waltzing with a lame partner.
This last I know, of course, only from hearsay."

" Did you never dance ?" asks Stella.

" IsTo, never since I left the Academy. ^ Have
you been to many balls ?"

"IsTever but to one, in Venice, at the Princess
Giovanelli's," Stella replies. " After the first waltz
I became so ill that I would not run the risk of
fainting and making myself and my partner ridicu-
lous. My enjoyment then consisted in sitting for
half an hour between two old ladies on a sofa, and
eating an ice to restore me. At twelve o'clock
punctually I hurried back, moreover, to the Bri-
tannia, for I knew that my poor sick father would
sit up to be regaled with an account of my con-
quests. He was firmly convinced that I should
make conquests. Poor papa ! You must not laugh
at his delusion ! The next day the other girls in
the hotel pitied me for not having had any partner
for the cotillon ; they displayed their bouquets to
me, as the Indians after a battle show the scalps
they have taken. They told me of their adorers,
and of the passi<^ns funestes which they had in-
12*

138 ERLACH COURT.

spired, and asked me what I had achieved in that
direction. And I could only cast down my eyes,
and reply, ' Nothing.' And to think that to-day,
after all these years, I must give the same answer
to the same question, — ' ITothing !' "

" You have never danced, then !" Eohritz says,
thoughtfully.

Strange, how this fact attracts him. Stella seems
to him like a fruit not quite ripened by the sun,
but gleaming among cool, overshadowing foliage
in absolute, untouched freshness. Such dewy-fresh
fruit is wonderfully inviting ; he feels almost like
stretching out his hand for it. But no, it would
be folly, — ridiculous; he is an old man, she a
child ; it is impossible. And yet

Both are so absorbed in their thoughts that they
do not observe how very dark it has grown, how
threatening is the aspect of the skies. Leaving
the ravine, the road now leads along the bank of
the Save. The pools on each side grow deeper,
the mud splashes from the wheels on Stella's knees :
she does not notice it.

" Your last remark was a little bold," Rohritz
now says, bending towards her.

" Bold ?" Stella repeats, in dismay : ' bold,' for
her, means pert, aggressive, — in short, something
terrible.

" Yes," he continues, smiling at her agitation ;
" you asserted something that seems to me incredi-

IDYLLIC. 139

ble, — that you never have inspired any one with
a "

He hesitates.

A brilliant flash quivers in the sky ; by its light
they see the Save foaming along ia its narrow
bed, swollen to overflowing by the recent torrents
of rain. Then all is dark as night ; a loud peal of
thunder shakes the air, and the blast of the storm
comes hissing as if with repressed fury from the
mountains.

The horses tremble, one of them stumbles and
falls, the traces break, and down goes the carriage.

" Now we are done for !" Rohritz exclaims, as
he jumps down to investigate the extent of the
damage.

Further progress is out of the question. He
succeeds by a violent efibrt in dragging to his feet
the exhausted horse, then unharnesses both ani-
mals and ties them as well as he can to a picket-
fence, the accident having occurred close to an
isolated cottage with an adjacent garden. Rohritz
knocks at its doors and windows in vain; no one
appears. In the deep recess of one of the doors is
a step affording a tolerable seat. He spreads a
plaid over it, and then, going to Stella, he says,
" Allow me to lift you down ; I must drag the car-
riage aside from the road. There ! you are not
quite sheltered yet from the rain; move a little
farther into the corner, — so."

140 ERLACH COURT.

" Oh, I dou't in the least mind getting wet,"
Stella assures him ; " but what shall we do ? We
cannot sit here all night long in hopes that some
chance passers-by may fish us out of the wet."

" If you could walk, there would be no difficulty.
The inn this side of the ferry is only a quarter of a
mile off, and we could easily hire a couple of horses
there. Can you stand on your foot ?"

" It gives me a great deal of pain to stand, and,
since Uncle Jack has my other shoe in his pocket,
how am I to walk ?"

" That is indeed unfortunate."

"You had better go for help to the inn of
which you speak," Stella proposes.

" Then I should have to leave you here alone,"
says Rohritz, shaking his head.

" I am not afraid," she declares, with the hardi-
hood of utter inexperience.

" But I am afraid for you ; I cannot endure the
thought of leaving you here alone on Sunday, when
all the men about are intoxicated. One of the
roughest of them might chance to pass by."

" In all probability no one will pass," says Stella.
" Go as quickly as you can, that we may get away
from here."

" In fact, she is right," Edgar says to himself.
He turns to go, then returns once more, and, taking
his mackintosh from his shoulders, wraps it about
her.

IDYLLIC. 141

He is gone. How slowly time passes when one
is waiting in the dark ! "With monotonous force, in
a kind of grand rhythmical cadence the rain pours
down to the accompaniment of the swirling Save.
No other sound is to be heard. Stella looks round
at the horses, which she can dimly discern. One is
lying, all four legs stretched out, in the mud, in
the position in which artists are wont to portray
horses killed on a battle-field ; the other is nibbling
with apparent relish at some greenery that has grown
across the garden fence. From time to time a flash
of lightning illumines the darkness. Stella takes
out her watch to note the time by one of these
momentary illuminations. It must have stopped,
— no, it is actually only a quarter of an hour since
Edgar's departure.

Hark ! the rolling of wheels mingles with the
rush of the Save and the plash of the rain. The
sound of a human voice falls upon the girl's ear.
She listens, delighted. Is it Rohritz ? "So, that is
not his voice : there are several voices, suspiciously
rough, — peasants rolling past in a small basket-
wagon, trolling some monotonous Slav melody.
By a red flash of lightning the rude company is
revealed, the driver mercilessly plying his whip
upon the back of a very small horse, that is gal-
loping through the mire with distended nostrils and
fluttering mane.

Stella's heart beats, her boasted courage shrivels

142 ERLAGH COURT.

up to nothing. A few more minutes pass, and now
she hears steps. Is he coming ? iN'o ; the steps
approach from the opposite direction, stumbling,
dragging steps, — those of a drunkard.

A nameless, unreasoning dread takes possession
of her. Ah ! she hears the quick firm rhythm of
an elastic tread.

" Baron Rohritz !" she screams, as loud as she
can. " Baron Rohritz !"

The step quickens into a run, and a moment later
Rohritz is beside her. " For God's sake, what is
the matter ?" he says, much distressed.

" Oh, nothing, nothing, — only a drunken man.
My courage oozed away pitifully. Heaven knows
whether, if you had not appeared, I might not have
plunged into the Save from sheer cowardice. But
all is well now. Is a vehicle coming ?"

" Unfortunately, there was none to be had. I
could only get a peasant-lad to take care of the
horses. If there was the slightest dependence to
be placed upon these confounded brutes I could put
you on the least broken-down of them and lead
him slowly to the inn. But, unfortunately, I am
convinced that the beast could not carry you : he
would fall with you in the first pool in the road.
"With all the desire in the world to help you, I
cannot. You must try to walk as far as the inn.
I have brought you one of the ferryman's wife's
shoes."

IDYLLIC. 143

And while Stella is putting the huge patent-
leather shoe on her bandaged foot, Rohritz directs
the peasant-lad to fish his plaid and rugs out of the
mud and to lead the horses slowly to the inn. As
he walks away with Stella they hear the boy's loud
drawling ' Hey !' ' Get up,' with which he seeks to
inspirit the miserable brutes.

Leaning on the arm of her escort, Stella does her
best to proceed without yielding to the pain which
every minute increases, but her movements grow
slower and more laboured, and finally a low moan
escapes her lips.

"Let me rest just one moment," she entreats,
piteously, ashamed of a helplessness of which a
normally constituted woman would have made
capital.

" Do not walk any farther," he rejoins, and, bend-
ing over her, he says, with decision, " I pray you
put your right arm around my neck, clasp it well :
treat me absolutely as a porte-faix."

" But, Baron "

" Do not oppose me, I entreat : at present I am
in command." His tone is very kind, but also very
authoritative.

She obeys, half mechanically. He carries her
firmly and securely, without stumbling, without
betraying the slightest fatigue. At first her sensa-
tions are distressing; then slowly, gradually, a
pleasant sense of being shielded and cared for

14.4 ERLACH COURT.

overcomes her: her thoughts stray far, far into
the past, — back to the time when her father hid
her against his breast beneath his cavalry cloak,
and she looked out between its folds from the
warm darkness upon the world outside. The min-
utes fly.

" We are here !" Eohritz says, very hoarsely.

She looks up. A reddish light is streaming
out into the darkness from the windows of a low,
clumsy building. He puts her down on the thresh-
old of the inn.

"Thanks!" she murmurs, without looking at
him. He is silent.

The inn parlour is empty. A bright fire is burn-
ing in the huge tiled stove ; the fragrance of cedar-
berries slowly scorching on its ledge neutralizes in
part the odour of old cheese, beer, and cheap to-
bacco plainly to be perceived in spite of the open
window. In a broad cabinet with glazed doors are
to be seen among various monstrosities of glass
and porcelain two battered sugar ships with paper
pennons, and a bridal wreath with crumpled white
muslin blossoms and arsenic-green leaves. The
portraits of their Majesties, very youthful in ap-
pearance, dating from their coronation, hang on
each side of this piece of furniture.

Among the various tables covered with black
oil-cloth there is one of rustic neatness provided
with a red-flowered cover, and set with greenish

IDYLLIC. 145

glasses, blue-rimmed plates, and iron knives and
forks with wooden handles.

The hostess, a colossal dame, who looks like a
meal-sack with a string tied around its middle,
makes her appearance, to receive the unfortunates
and to place her entire wardrobe at Stella's disposal.

" Can we not go on, then ?" Stella asks, in dismay.

"Unfortunately, no. I have sent to the nearest
village for some sort of conveyance, and my mes-
senger cannot possibly return in less than an hour.
And I must prepare you for another unfortunate
circumstance : we shall be forced to go by a very
long and roundabout road ; the Groblach bridge is
carried away, and the Save is whirling along in its
current the pillars and ruins, making the ferry
impracticable for the present."

" Oh, good heavens !" sighs Stella, who has
meanwhile taken off her dripping water-proof and
wrapped about her shoulders a thick red shawl
loaned her by the hostess. " Well, at least we are
under shelter."

Thereupon the hostess brings in a grass-green
waiter on which are placed a dish of ham and eggs
and a can of beer.

" I ordered a little supper, but I cannot vouch
for the excellence of the viands," Rohritz says,
in French, to Stella. " I should be glad if you
would consent to eat something warm. It is the
best preventive against cold."
a k 13

146 ERLACH COURT.

Stella shows no disposition to criticise what is
thus set before her. " How pleasant !" she ex-
claims, gaily, taking her seat at the table. " I am
terribly hungry, and I had not ventured to hope for
anything to eat before midnight."

It is a pleasure to him to sit opposite to her,
looking at her pretty, cheerful face, — a pleasure to
laugh at her gay sallies.

Would it not be charming to sit opposite to her
thus daily at his own table, — to lavish care and
tenderness upon the poor child who had been so
neglected and thrust out into the world, — to spoil
and pet her to his heart's content ? " Grasp your
chance,—- grasp it!" the heart in his bosom cries
out : " her lot is hard, she is grateful for a little
sympathy, — will she not smile on you in spite of
your gray hair ?" But reason admonishes : " For-
bear ! she is only a child. To be sure, if, as she
has avowed, her heart be really untouched, why
then "

Whilst he, absorbed in such careful musings,
grows more and more taciturn, she chatters away
gaily upon every conceivable topic, devouring with
an appetite to be envied the frugal refection he
has provided.

" It is delightful, our improvised supper," she
declares, " almost as charming as the little suppers
at the Britannia which papa used to have ready
for me when I came home from parties in Venice,

IDYLLIC. 147

as terribly hungry as one always is on returning
from a Venetian soiree, where one is delightfully
entertained hut gets nothing to eat."

"It seems, then, that the Giovaaelli ball was not
your only glimpse of Venetian society ?" Rohritz
remarks, with a glance that is well-nigh indis-
creetly searching.

" Before papa grew so much worse I very often
went out : papa insisted upon it. The Countess
L chaperoned me. And at Lady Stair's even-
ings in especial I enjoyed myself almost as much
as I was bored at the Giovanelli ball. I cannot,
'tis true, dance ; but talk," — she laughs somewhat
shyly, as if in ridicule of her talkativeness, — " I
can talk."

" That there is nothing to eat at a Venetian
soiree I know from experience," Rohritz says,
rather ill-humouredly, " but how one can find
any enjoyment there I am absolutely unable to
understand. Venetian society is terrible : the men
especially are intolerable."

" I did not find it so," Stella declares, shaking
her head with her usual grave simplicity in assert-
ing her opinion; " not at all."

" But you must confess that Italians are usually
low-toned; that "

" But I did not meet Italians exclusively ; I met
Austrians, English, Russians; although in fact"
— she pauses reflectively, then says, with convic-

148 EELAGH COURT.

tion — "the nicest of all, my very particular friend,
was an Italian, Prince Zino Capitb."

" He calls himself an Austrian," Rohritz in-
terposes.

"He was born in Rome," Stella rejoins.

" I see you know all about him," Rohritz ob-
serves.

" We saw a great deal of each other," Stella
chatters on easily. " We were in the same hotel,
papa and I, and the Prince. His place at table
was next to mine, and in fine weather he used to
take us to sail in his cutter. He often came in
the evenings to play bezique with papa. He was
very kind to papa."

" Evidently," Rohritz observes.

" You seem to dislike him !" Stella says, in some
surprise.

"ITot at all. We always got along very well
together," Rohritz coldly assures her. " I know
him intimately ; my oldest brother married his
sister Therese."

" Ah ! is she as handsome as he ?" Stella asks,
innocently.

" Very graceful and distinguished in appearance ;
she does not resemble him at all." And with a
growing sharpness in his tone Rohritz adds, —

" Do you think him so very handsome ?"

The hostess interrupts them by bringing in a
dish of inviting strawberries. Stella thanks her

IDYLLIC. 149

kindly for her excellent supper, the woman says
something to Rohritz in the peasant patois, which
Stella does not understand, and he fastens his eye-
glass in his eye, a sign with him of a momentary
access of ill humour.

After the woman has withdrawn he remarks,
with an odd twinkle of his eyes, " How many years
too young did you say I was, Baroness Stella, to
be your father? — four or five, was it not? Eh
bien, our hostess thinks differently : she has just
congratulated me upon my charming daughter."

But Stella has no time to make reply : her eyes
are riveted in horror upon the clock against the
wall. " Is it really half-past ten ?" she exclaims.
" No, thank heaven ; the clock has stopped. "What
o'clock is it. Baron Rohritz ?"

"A quarter after eleven," he says, startled
himself, and rather uncomfortable. " I do not
understand why the messenger is not here with
the conveyance."

"Good heavens!" Stella cries, in utter dismay.
" What will mamma say ?"

"Be reasonable. Your mother cannot blame
you in this case ; she must be informed that it was
impossible to cross the ferry," he says, anxious
himself about the matter, however.

" Certainly; but while she does not know of
our break-down she will think we have had plenty
of time to reach Wolfsegg by the longest way

13*

150 ERLACH COURT.

round. You certainly acted for the best, but it
would have been better, much better, if Uncle
Jack had stayed with me. He knows all about
the country, and he has a decided way of making
these lazy peasants do as he pleases."

" I do not believe that with all his knowledge of
the country, and his decision of character, he could
have succeeded in procuring you a conveyance,"
Rohritz says, with growing irritation.

" If the ferry is useless, perhaps we might cross
in a skiff," Stella says, almost in tears.

" I will see what is to be done," he rejoins.
"At all events it shall not be my fault if your
mother's anxiety is not fully appeased in the course
of the next half-hour."

With this he leaves the room. Shortly after-
wards the hostess makes her appearance.

" Where has the Herr Papa gone ?" she asks.

" He has gone out to see if we cannot cross the
Save in a boat."

" He cannot do it to-night," the woman asserts.

" He would surely not think of " Without

finishing her sentence she puts down the plate of
cheese she has just brought, and hurries away.

Stella is perplexed. What does he mean to do ?
What is the hostess so foolishly afraid of? She
limps to the open window, and sees Rohritz on the
bank of the stream, talking in the Slavonic dialect,
which she does not understand, with a rough-look-

IDYLLIC. 151

ing man. The rain has ceased, the clouds are rent
and flying, and from among them the moon shines
with a bluish lustre, strewing silver gleams upon
the quiet road with its net-work of pools and ruts,
upon the wildly-rushing Save with its foaming
billows, upon the black roof of the hut which
serves as a shelter for the ferrymen, and upon a
rocking skiff which is fastened to the shore. A
sudden dread seizes upon Stella, a dread stronger
by far than her childish fear of her mother's harsh
words. The hostess enters.

" !N^ot a bit will the gentleman heed, — stiff-necked
he is, — the water boiling, and not a man will risk
the rowing him : he he's to sail alone to Wolfsegg,
and ne'er a one can hinder him."

Stella sees Rohritz get into the skiff, sees the
fisherman take hold of the chain that fastens it to
the Shore. Not even conscious of the pain in her
wounded foot, she rushes out, and across the muddy
road to the bank, where the fisherman has already
unfastened the chain and is preparing to push the
boat out of the swamp into the rushing current.

" Good heavens ! are you mad ?" she calls aloud
to Rohritz. " "What are you about ?"

Rohritz turns hastily; their eyes meet in the
moonlight. " After what you said to me there is
nothing for me to do save to shield your reputa-
tion at all hazards. — Push off!" he orders the
fisherman.

152 ERLACH COURT.

" No," she calls : " it never occurred to me to
consider my reputation. I was only a coward, and
afraid of mamma."

The fisherman hesitates. Rohritz takes the oars.
" Push off!" he orders, angrily.

" Do so, if you choose," Stella cries, " but you
will take me with you!" Whereupon she jumps
into the boat, and, striking her poor wounded foot
against a seat, utterly breaks down with the pain.
" I was a coward ; yes, yes, I was afraid of mamma;
but I would rather have her refuse to speak to me
than have you drowned," she sobs.

Her streaming eyes are riveted in great distress
upon his face, and her soft, trembling hands try
to clasp his arm. About the skiff the waves plash,
" Grasp it, grasp it ; your happiness lies at your
feet 1"

His whole frame is thrilled. He stoops and lifts

her up. " But, Stella, my poor foolish angel "

he begins.

At this moment there is a rattle of wheels, and
then the captain's voice : " Eohritz ! Rohritz !"

" All's right now!" says Rohritz, drawing a deep
breath.

As it now appears, the captain has come by the
long roundabout road, with a borrowed vehicle, to
the relief of the unfortunates. The general, who,
whatever disagreeable qualities he may possess, is
a 'gentleman coachman' of renown, has declared

IDYLLIC. 153

himself quite ready to conduct the landau with
its spirited span of horses to Erlach Court.

" What have you been about ? What has hap-
pened to you 1" the captain repeats, and he shakes
his head, claps his hands, and laughs by turns, as
with mutual interruptions and explanations the tale
of disaster is unfolded to him.

Then Stella is packed inside the little vehicle,
Rohritz takes his place beside her, and the captain
is squeezed up on the front seat.

Before fifteen minutes are over Stella is sound
asleep. Rohritz wraps his plaid about her shoul-
ders without her knowledge.

" She is tired out," he whispers. " I only hope
her foot is not going to give her trouble. Were
you very anxious ?"

" My wife was almost beside herself. My sister
took the matter, on the contrary, very quietly, until
finally Stasy put some ridiculous ideas of impro-
priety into her head, and then she talked nonsense,
alternately scolding you and the child, marching
up and down the common room at the Wolfsegg
inn like a bear in a cage, until I could bear it no
longer, but left the entire party on the general's
shoulders to be driven home, and set out in search
of you. How did Stella behave herself? Did she
give you any trouble ?"

" No ; she was very quiet."

" She is a dear girl, is she not ? Poor child ! she

154 ERLACH COURT.

really has had too much to bear. Of course I would
not confess it to Stasy, but it is a fact that if auy
other man had been in your place I should have
been excessively annoyed."

" My gray hair has been of immense advantage
to your niece," Rohritz assured him. " The hostess
at the ferry persisted in taking me for her father."

"Nonsense!"

" N^onsense which at least showed me at the right
moment precisely where I stood," Rohritz mur-
mured. " And, between ourselves, — never allude
to it again, — it was necessary."

^ ^ :ti :(E :}: sf: :f:

The captain, who naturally enough sees nothing
in his friend's words but an allusion to his altered
circumstances, sighs, and thinks, " "What a pity !"

CHAPTER XIV.

A DEPARTURE.

"When the three wanderers arrive at Erlach
Court a little after midnight, they find the rest in
the dining-room, still sitting around the remains of
a very much over-cooked dinner. Stasy, in a pink
peignoir, hails Rohritz upon his entrance with, " I
have won my bet, — six pair of Jouvin's gloves

A DEPARTURE. I55

from Katrine. I wagered you would be late —
ha! ha!"

" A fact easy to foresee, in view of the condi-
tion of the horses and the roads," Rohritz rejoins,
frowning.

The affair, so far as it concerns Stella, who ap-
proaches her mother with fear and trembling,
turns out fairly well. As the Baroness's natural
feeling of maternal anxiety for her daughter's
safety has only been temporarily disturbed by
Stasy's insinuations, she forgets to scold Stella, in
her joy at seeing her safe and sound. That she
may not give way to an outburst of anger upon
further consideration, and that an end may be put
to Stasy's jests, the captain instantly plunges into
a detailed account of all the mishaps that have
befallen Stella and her escort.

Katrine meanwhile searches for a telegram that
has arrived for Rohritz, finally discovering it under
an old-fashioned decanter on the sideboard.

" What is the matter ?" she asks, kindly, seeing
him change colour upon reading it.

"Moritz, an apoplectic stroke, come immediately.

Ernestine."

he reads aloud. " 'Tis from my eldest sister. Poor
Tina !" he murmurs. " I must leave to-morrow
by the seven-o'clock train from Gradenik. Can
you let me have a pair of horses, Les ?"

156 ERLACH COURT.

The captaiu sends instantly to have everything
in readiness.

Shortly afterwards Eohritz takes leave of the
ladies; he does not, of course, venture to expect
that after the fatigues of the day they will rise
before six in the morning for his sake. Stella's
hand he retains a few seconds longer than he ought,
and he notices that it trembles in his own.

So summary is his mode of preparation that his
belongings are all packed in little more than half
an hour, and he then disposes himself to spend the
rest of the night in refreshing slumber. But sleep
is denied him : a strange unrest possesses him.
Happiness knocks at the door of his heart and
entreats, 'Ah, let me in, let me in !' But Reason
stands sentinel there and refuses to admit her.

He tossed to and fro for hours, unable to compose
himself. Towards morning he had a strange dream.
He seemed to be walking in a lovely summer night:
the moon shone bright through the branches of an
old linden, and lay in arabesque patterns of light
on the dark ground beneath. Suddenly he per-
ceived a small dark object lying at his feet, and
when he stooped to see what it was he found it was
a little bird that had fallen out of the nest and now
looked up at him sadly and helplessly from large
dark eyes. He picked it up and warmed it against
his breast. It nestled delightedly into his hand.
He pressed his lips to the warm little head; an

A DEPARTURE. I57

electric thrill shot through his veins. " Stella, my
poor, dear, foolish child!" he murmured.

Eat-tat-tat — rat-tat-tat! He started and awoke.
The servant was knocking at his door to arouse him.
" The Herr Baron's hot shaving- water."

"When, half an hour later, he appears, dressed
with his usual fastidious care, in the dining-room,
he finds both the master and the mistress of the
house already there to do the honours of what he
calls, with courteous exaggeration, ' the last meal of
the condemned.' Shortly afterwards Stasy appears.
The general, through a servant, makes a back-ache
a plea for not rising at so early an hour.

The carriage is announced; Rohritz kisses Ka-
trine's hand and thanks her for some delightful
weeks. She and the captain accompany him to the
carriage, while Stasy contents herself with kissing
her hand to him from the terrace. At the last
moment Rohritz discovers that he has no matches,
and a servant is sent into the house to get him
some.

" It is settled between us, now," Katrine begins,
" that whenever you are fairly tired out with man-
kind in general "

" I shall come to Erlach Court to learn to prize
it in particular ; most certainly, madame," Rohritz
replies, his glance roving restlessly among the
upper windows of the castle. " Au revoir at
Christmas!"

14

158 ERLACB COURT.

The morning is cool; the cloudless skies are
pale blue, the turf silver gray with dew ; the car-
riage makes deep ruts in the moist gravel of the
sweep ; the blossoms have fallen from the linden
and are lying by thousands shrivelled and faded at
its feet, while the rustle of the dripping dew among
its mighty branches can be distinctly heard.

The servant brings the matches. Bohritz still
lingers.

" Do not forget, madame, to bid the Baroness

Meineck " he begins, when the sound of a

limping foot-fall strikes his ear. He turns hastily :
it is Stella, — Stella in a white morning gown, her
hair loosely twisted up, very pale, very charming,
her eyes gazing large and grave from out her
mobile countenance.

" Have you, too, made your appearance at last,
you lazy little person ? 'Tis very good of you, —
highly praiseworthy," the captain says, with a laugh
to annul the effect of Stella's innocent eagerness.

A burst of laughter comes from the terrace.

" I hope you are duly gratified, Baron," a dis-
cordant voice calls out. ""When our little girl
gets up at six o'clock it must be for a very grand
occasion !"

Blushing painfully, Stella with difficulty restrains
her tears ; she says not a word, but stands there
absolutely paralyzed with embarrassment.

" I thank you from ray heart for your kindness,"

A DEPARTURE. 159

Rohritz says, hastily approaching her. " I should
have regretted infinitely not seeing you to say
good-bye."

" Tou had a great deal of trouble with me yes-
terday, and were very patient," she manages to
stammer. " Except Uncle Jack, no one has been
so kind to me as you, since papa died, and I
wanted to thank you for it."

He takes her soft, warm little hand in his and
carries it to his lips.

" God guard you!" he murmurs.

" Hurry, or you will be too late !" the captain
calls to him. He is going to accompany him to
the station, and he fairly drags him away to the
carriage.

The driver cracks his" whip, the horses start off,
Rohritz waves his hat for a last farewell, and the
carriage vanishes behind the iron gates of the park.

" Poor Stella ! poor Stella !" Stasy screams from
the terrace, fairly convulsed with laughter. " De-
lightful fellow, Rohritz : he knows what he's
about !"

But Stella covers her burning face with her
hands. " I will go into a convent," she says ;
" there at least I shall be able to conduct myself
properly."

Meanwhile, Rohritz and the captain roll on
towards the station. They are both silent.

"He is desperately in love with her," thinks

160 ' ERLACH COURT.

the captain. " Is lie really too poor to marry, I
wonder?"

Yes, it is true Rohritz is desperately in love with
her ; she hovers before his eyes in all her loveliness
like a vision. He would fain stretch out his arms
to her, hut he is perpetually tormented by the
persistent question, " Whom does she resemble ?"
Suddenly he knows. The knowledge almost par-
alyzes him !

Beside the pure, fresh vision of Stella he sees
leaning over a black-haired, vagabond-looking man
at the roulette-table at Baden-Baden the hectic
ruin of a woman who has been magnificently
beautiful, a woman with painted cheeks and with
deep lines about her eyes and mouth, — otherwise
the very image of Stella.

Twelve years since he had seen her thus, and
upon asking who she was had been told that she
was the mistress of the Spanish violinist Correze,
and that she was little by little sacrificing her
entire fortune to gratify the artist's love of gaming.
His informant added that she was a woman of
birth and position, and that she had left her hus-
band and child in obedience to the promptings of
passion. He did not know her husband's name:
she called herself then Madame Correze.

Why do all Stasy's malicious remarks about
Stella's unpleasant connections, and about the
Meineck temperament, crowd into his mind ?

A DEPARTURE. 161

There is no denying that Stella is lacking in a
certain kind of reserve.

"While he is waiting with the captain beneath
the vine-wreathed shed of the station for the train
which has just been signalled, these hateful thoughts
refuse to be banished. He suddenly asks his friend,
who stands smoking in silence beside him, —

" "What is the story about your sister's sister-in-
law to which Fraulein von Gurlichingen so often
alludes? "Was she the same Eugenie Meineck to
whom you were once devoted ?"

" Yes," the captain makes reply, half closing his
eyes, "and she was a charming, enchanting crea-
ture; Stella reminds me of her. So one has a
good word for her now, but there was a time when
it was impossible to pet and praise her enough."

" "What became of her ?"

" She fell into bad — or rather into incapable —
hands. She married an elderly man who did not
know how to manage her. Good heavens! the
best horse stumbles under a bad rider, and "

"Well, and ?"

" She had not been married long when she ran
off with a Spanish musician, a coarse fellow, who
beat her, and ran through her property. He was
quite famous. His name was — was " The cap-
tain snaps his fingers impatiently.

" Corrfeze ?" E-ohritz interposes.

" Yes, that is it, — Correze !"
I 14*

162 ERLACH COURT.

At this momeut the train arrives.

" All kind messages to the ladies at Erlach Court,
and many thanks for your hospitality, Jack !"
Rohritz says, jumping into the coupe.

" I hope we shall see you soon again, old fellow ;
but — hm ! — ^have you no message for my foolish
little Stella ?" asks the captain.

" I hope with all my heart that she may soon fall
into good hands !" Rohritz says, with emphasis, in
a hard vibrant voice.

And the train whizzes away.

" The deuce !" thinks the captain ; " there's but
a slim chance for the poor girl. Good heavens !
if I loved Stella and my circumstances did not
allow of my marrying, I'd take up some profession.
But Rohritz is too fine a gentleman for that."

Meanwhile, Rohritz leans back discontentedly in
the corner of an empty coupe.

" A charming, bewitching creature, — Stella re-
sembles her," he murmurs to himself. " She mar-
ried an elderly man from pique, and so on." He
lights a cigar and puffs forth thick clouds of
smoke. " She might not have married me from
pique, but from loneliness, from gratitude for a
little sympathy. And if Zino had come across her

later on I was on the point of losing my head.

Thank God it is over!"

He sat still for a while, his head propped upon
his hand, and then found that his cigar had gone

SCATTERED. 163

out. With an impatient gesture he tossed it out
of the window.

" I could not have believed I should have had
such an attack at my years," he muttered. He
set his teeth, and his face took on a resolule ex-
pression. " It must be," he said to himself.

Outside the wind sighed among the trees and in
the tall meadow-grass.

It sounded to him like the sobbing of his rejected
happiness.

CHAPTER XV.

SCATTEEED.

Summer has gone. The birds are silent ; brown
leaves cover the green grass, falling thicker and
thicker from the weary trees ; long, white gossa-
mers float in the damp, oppressive air : the autumn
is weaving a shroud for the dying year.

Scared by the whistling blasts and the floods of
rain, the swallows have assembled in dark flocks j
they are seen in long rows on the telegraph-wires
in eager twittering discussion of their approaching
flight, and then, the next morning, early, before
the lingering autumn sun has opened its drowsy
eyes, the heavens are black with their flying
squadrons.

164 ERLACH COURT.

Bat the final death-struggle is not yet over, the
warmth in all vegetation is not yet chilled ; bright
flowers still bloom at the feet of the fast-thinning
trees, and, shaking the falling leaves from their
cups, laugh up at the blue skies.

The little company which at the beginning of
this simple story we found assembled at Erlach
Court is now dispersed to all quarters of the world :
the general is ' grazing,' as Jack Leskjewitsch ex-
presses it, with somebody in Southern Hungary;
Stasy is fluttering, with sweet smiles and covert
malice, from friend to friend, seeming at present
on the lookout for a fixed engagement for the win-
ter ; Rohritz is oft' on his wonted autumnal hunt-
ing-expedition, and more than usually bored by it;
and the Leskjewitsches are still at Erlach Court,
where Ereddy is in perpetual conflict with his new
tutor, a spare, lank philosopher lately imported for
him from Bohemia, and Katrine quafis full draughts
of her beloved solitude, without experiencing the
great degree of rapture she had anticipated from
it ; there is a cloud upon her brow, and her annoy-,
ance is principally due to the fact that the captain
begins to show unmistakable signs of a lapse from
his former manly energy of character ; he scarcely
holds himself as erect as was his wont, and the only
occupation which he pursues with any notable de-
gree of self-sacrifice and devotion is the breaking
of a pair of very young and very fiery horses. This

SCATTERED. 165

praiseworthy pursuit, however, absorbs only a few
hours at most of each day, and he kills the rest of
the time as best he can, irritating by his idleness
his wife, who is always occupied with most inter-
esting matters. In addition he reads silly novels,
and greatly admires the ' Maitre de Forges.'

" How can any man admire the ' Maitre de
Forges' ?" Katrine asks, indignantly.

The Baroness and Stella have been back in their
mill-cottage at Zalow for many weeks, and Stella
is, as usual, left entirely to herself.

In addition to the daily scribbling over of various
sheets of foolscap, the Baroness, instead of bestow-
ing any attention upon her daughter, is mainly
occupied with superintending the carrying out of
all the governmental prophylactic measures which
are to secure to Zalow entire immunity from the
cholera. She has come off victorious in many a
battle with the culpably negligent village authority,
and, to the immense edification of the inmates of
the various villas, already somewhat accustomed
to the vagaries of the Baroness Meineck, she now
goes from one manure-heap to another of the
place, at the head of a battalion of barefooted
village children provided with watering-pots filled
with a disinfectant, the due apportionment of which
she thus oversees herself.

It was long an undecided question whether this
winter, like the last, should be spent in Zalow.

166 ERLAC3 COURT.

Finally the Baroness decided that it was absolutely
necessary for herself as well as for Stella that the
cold season of the year should be passed in Paris,
for herself that she might have access to much
information needed for the completion of her
' work,' for Stella that a final polish might be
given to her singing and that she might be defi-
nitively prepared for the stage.

Every one who has ever had anything to do
with Lina Meineck knows that if she once takes
any scheme into her head it is sure to be carried
out : therefore, having made up her mind to go to
Paris, she will go, although no one among all her
relatives has an idea of where the requisite funds
are to come from.

It does not occur to any one that she could lay
hands upon the small fortune belonging to Stella,
who has lately been declared of age.

CHAPTER XVI.

ZALOW.

Ix is a mild autumn afternoon ; Stella, just re-
turned from a visit to her sister, who has lately
been blessed by the arrival of a little daughter,
has taken a seat with some trifling piece of work

ZALOW. 167

in her mother's study to tell her ahout the pretty
child and Franzi's household, but at her first word
her mother calls out to her from her writing-
table, —

" Not now, — not now, I beg; do not.disturb me."

And the girl, silenced and mortified, bends over
the tiny shirt which she has begun to crochet for
her little niece, and keeps all that she had hoped
to tell to herself.

The autumn sun shines in at the window, and its
crimson light gleams upon a large tin box standing
on the floor in a corner, the box in which the de-
ceased colonel had kept all the letters he ever re-
ceived from his wife. Tied up with ribbon, and
methodically arranged according to their dates,
they are packed away here just as they were sent
to his wife from his old quarters at Enns. She has
never looked at them, has not even taken the
trouble to destroy them, but has simply pushed
them aside as useless rubbish.

Stella had rummaged among them, with inde-
scribable sensations in deciphering these yellow
documents with their faint odour of lavender and
decay, for here were letters full of ardour and pas-
sion, letters in which Lina Meineck wrote to her
husband, for instance, when he was away during
the Schleswig campaign, —

" The weather is fine to-day, and every one
is praising the lovely spring; but it is always

168 ERLACH COVRT.

winter for me in your absence; with you away
my thermometer always stands at ten degrees below
zero !"

"With a shudder Stella put back these relics of
a dead love in their little coffin. It was as if she
had heard a corpse speak.

Since then she has often wished to burn the
letters, out of affectionate reverence for the dead
who held them sacred, but she has never sum-
moned up sufficient courage to ask her mother's
permission.

The little shirt is finished; with a sigh Stella
folds it together, and is just wondering what she
shall do next to occupy the rest of the afternoon,
when the Baroness says, —

" Have you nothing to do, Stella ?"

'■•'Eo, mamma."

" Well, then, you can run over to Schwarz's and
buy me a couple of quires of paper ; my supply is
exhausted, and I will, meanwhile, have tea brought
up."

Donning her hat and gloves, Stella sets forth.
Herr Schwarz is the only shopkeeper in the village,
and his shop contains a more heterogeneous collec-
tion of articles than the biggest shop in Paris.
He often boasts that he has everything for sale,
from poison for rats, and dynamite bombs, to
paper collars and scented soap. His shop is at the
other end of the village from the mill, and to

ZALOW. 169

reach it Stella must pass tlie most ornate of the
villas.

Most of the summer residents have left Zalow ;
only a few special enthusiasts for country air have
been induced by the exceptionally fine autumn
w^eather to prolong their stay. In the garden of
fhe tailor who built himself a hunting-lodge in the
style of Francis the First a group of people are
disputing around a croquet-hoop in the centre of a
very small lawn, and in the Girofle Villa some one
is practising Schumann's 'Etudes symphoniques'
with frantic ardour. Stella smiles.; the last sound
that fell upon her ears before she went to Erlach
Court with her mother was the ' ^fitudes sympho-
niques,' the first that greeted her upon her return
in the middle of August was the ' feudes sympho-
niques.' She knows precisely who is so persist-
ently given over to these rhapsodies, — an odd crea-
ture, a woman named Fuhrwesen, who has been
a teacher of the piano for some years in Russia,
and who, now over forty, still hopes for a career
as an artist.

Stella's little commission is soon attended to.
As she hands her mother the paper on her return,
their only servant, a barefooted girl from the village,
with a red-and-black checked kerchief tied about
her head, brings the tea into the room.

" A letter has come for you," the Baroness says
to her daughter, — " a letter from Gratz. I do not
H 15

170 ERLACH COURT.

know the hand. Who can be writing to you from
Gratz ? "Where did I put it ?"

And while her mother is rummaging among her
papers for the letter, Stella repeats, with a throb-
bing heart, "From Gratz. Who can be writing
to me from Gratz ?" and she covertly kisses the
four-leaved clover on her bracelet which is to bring
her good fortune, and proceeds instantly to build
a charming castle in the air.

Her uncle has told her of Edgar's loss of property
and his consequent inability to think of marriage
at present. Perhaps Uncle Jack told her this to
comfort her. That Edgar loves her she has, with
the unerring instinct of total inexperience of the
world, read, not once, but hundreds of times, in hia
eyes, and consequently she has spent many a loug
autumn evening in wondering whether he is look-
ing for a position — some lucrative employme'it —
to enable him to marry. He is not lacking i;i at-
tainments ; he could work if he would. " And he
will for my sake," the heart of this foolish, fan-
tastic young person exults in thinking.

From day to day she has been hoping that he
would send her — perhaps through Jack or Katrine
— some message, hitherto in vain. But now at last
he has written himself; for from whom else could
this letter from Gratz be ? She knew no human
being there save himself.

" Here is the letter," her mother says, at last-

ZALOW. 171

Stella opens it hastily, and starts.

"Whom is it from?" asks the Baroness. She
uses the hour for afternoon tea to rest from her
literary labours ; with her feet upon the round of
a chair in front of her, a volume of Buckle in her
lap, a pile of books beside her, a number of the
' Revue des deux Mondes' in her left hand, and her
teacup in her right, she partakes alternately of the
refreshing beverage and of an article upon Henry
the Eighth. " Whom is the letter from ?" she asks,
absently, laying her cup aside to take up a volume
of Froude.

" From Stasy," Stella replies.

" Ah ! vrhat does she want ?"

" She asks me to send her from Rumberger's, in
Prague, three hundred napkins or so, upon appro-
bation, that she may oblige some friend of hers
whom I do not know, and for whom I do not care."

" Positively insolent !" remarks the Baroness.
" And does she say nothing else ?"

" ]!fothing of any consequence," says Stella, read-
ing on and suddenly changing colour.

"Ah!" The Baroness marks the Eevue with
her pencil. When she looks up again, Stella has
left the room. Without wasting another thought
upon her, the student goes on with her reading.

Stella, meanwhile, is lying on the bed in her
little room, into which the moon shines marking
the floor with the outlines of the window-panes.

172 ERLACH COURT.

Her face is buried among the pillows, and she is
crying as if her heart would break.

' ISTothing of any consequence' \ True enough,
of no consequence for the Baroness, that second
sheet of Stasy's, but for Stella of great, of im-
mense consequence.

" Guess whom I encountered lately at Stein-
bach?" writes the Gurlichingen. " Edgar Rohritz.
Of course we talked of our dear Erlach Court, and
consequently of you. He spoke very kindly of
you, only regretting that in consequence of your
odd education, or of a certain exaggeration of tem-
perament, you lacked reserve, terme, a defect which
might be unfortunate for you in life. Of course
I defended you. They say everywhere that he is
betrothed to Emmy Strahlenheim.

"Have you heard the news, — the very latest?
Rohritz is a sly fellow indeed. All that loss of
property of which we heard so much was only a
fraud. The report originated in some trifling de-
preciation of certain bank-stock. He did not con-
tradict the report, allowing himself to be thought
impoverished that he might escape the persecu-
tions of the mothers and daughters of Gratz. Max
Steinbach let out the secret a while ago. Is it
not the best joke in the world ? I am glad no
one can accuse me of ever making the slightest
advances to him."

WINTER. 173

CHAPTEE XVII.

WINTER.

The death-struggle of the year is over, — ^past are
the treacherous gleams of sunlight among falling
leaves and smiling flowers, — past, past ! Cold and
grave like a hired executioner, mute and secret
like a midnight assassin, the first hard frost has
fallen upon the earth in the previous night and
completed its great work of destruction.

It is All Souls' ; the Meinecks leave for Paris in
the evening, and in the morning Stella goes to
mass in the little church on the mountain-side at
the foot of which is the churchyard, — the church-
yard in which the colonel lies buried. The flames
of the thick wax candles on the altar, the flames
of the candles thick and thin lighted everywhere
in memory of the dead, flicker dull and red in the
gray daylight.

In one of the carved seats beside the altar sits
the priest's sister, her prayer-book bound in red
velvet, and a large yellow rose in her new winter
hat. She nods kindly to Stella when she enters,
and gathers her skirts aside to make room for her.

In the body of the long narrow church are
cowering on the benches all kinds of dilapidated
15*

174 ERLACH COURT.

figures, men and women, almost all old, frail, and
crippled, — those able to work have no time to
pray. It is very cold; their breath comes as
vapour from their lips ; the outlines of their blue
wrinkled faces show vaguely behind clouds of
yellowish-gray smoke ; the odour of damp stone
and damp clothes mingles with the smell of incense
and wax; the sputter of the candles, the dripping
of the wax, the rattle of beads, mingle with the
monotonous chant of the priest at the altar.

When mass is over, and she has taken leave
of the priest's kindly sister, Stella goes out into
the churchyard, — a miserable place, with neglected
graves, scarcely elevated in mounds above the
ground, with iron crosses upon which rust has
eaten away the inscriptions, or wooden ones which
the wind has blown down to lie rotting on the
ground. The colonel's grave is beneath a weep-
ing-willow at the extreme end of the churchyard,
whence one can look directly down upon the broad
shining stream. Tended like a garden-bed by
Stella, cherished as the very apple of her eye, it
yet looks dreary enough to-day : the leaves are
hanging black and withered from the stalks of the
chrysanthemums which Stella planted with her own
hands only a few weeks ago, their pretty flowers,
which but yesterday stood forth red and yellow
against the blue of the sky, now colourless and faded
beyond recognition. A wreath of fresh flowers

WINTER. 175

lies among the chrysanthemums, but these too are
beginning to fade. Stella kneels down on the gray
rimy grass beside the grave and kisses fervently
the hard frozen ground.

"Adieu, papa," she murmurs, and then adds,
" But why say adieu to you ? You are always with
me everywhere I go ; you are beside me, a loving
guardian angel seeking for happiness for me. Do
not grieve too much that you cannot find it : open
your arms and take me to you ; I am all ready."

Then the mill is closed ; the keys are left with
the pastor, and the Meinecks go to Prague, which
on the same evening they leave by the train for the
west. As far as Furth they are alone, but when they
change coupes after the examination of their lug-
gage they are unable, in spite of bribing the officials,
to exclude strangers. At the last moment, just as
the train is about to start, a lady with two hand-
bags, a travelling-case, a shawl-strap, and a band-
box steps into their compartment and hopes she
does not disturb them. Much vexed, Stella scans
the lady, who wears a water-proof adorned with as
many tassels as bedeck the trappings of an Anda-
lusiau mule, and with a red pompon in her hat,
fastened in its place with a bird's claw four inches
long. Stella instantly recognizes her as Fraulein
Bertha Fuhrwesen, the same pianist who has been
spending her holidays upon the ' feudes sympho-

176 ERLACH COURT.

niques;' she recognizes Stella at the same moment,
and, although until now she never has exchanged
four words with her, hails her as an old acquaint-
ance and enters into conversation ; that is, without
waiting for replies from the young girl she imparts
to her the story of her entire life.

In the course of her experience as teacher of
the piano in Russia, of which mention has already
been made, she has learned much of the rude
nature of Russian social life and the amiability
of young Russian princes; at present she is on
her way to Paris, whence she is to make a tour
with an impresario through South America and
Australia, by the way of Uruguay and Tasmania.
Apart from the artistic laurels she expects to win,
she anticipates furthering greatly the advance of
civilization among the savage aborigines by her
musical eiForts.

She asks Stella several times why she is so silent,
and when the girl excuses herself on the plea of
a headache she says she had better eat something,
and produces from her travelling-case, embroidered
with red and white roses, and from between a
flannel dressing-sacque and various toilet articles, a
bulky brown package containing the remains of a
cold capon.

Stella thanks her, and declines the tempting deli-
cacy, saying that she will try to sleep.

Fraulein Fuhrwesen of course attributes Stella's

WINTER. 177

reserve to tte notorious arrogance of the Meinecks,
who will have nothing to say to a poor pianist,
and, mortally offended, she likewise takes refuge
in silence

Stella dozes.

The conductor opens the door to tell the ladies
that the next station is Nuremberg, whereupon the
artiste takes a comb and a tangled braid of false
hair out of her travelling-case and begins to dress
her hair.

The train puffs and whizzes through the grayish
light of the late autumn morning and stops with a
shrill whistle at Nuremberg.

Stella and her mother through the pillars of the
railway-station catch a glimpse, among the pictu-
resque gables and roofs of the old town, of ugly new
houses pretentious in style, looking as if built of
pasteboard ; they partake of a miserable breakfast,
buy a package of gingerbi-ead and a volume of
Tauchnitz, get into another train, and are whirled
away, on — on — ^through yellow and brown harvest-
fields, through small bristling forests of pines and
barren meadows, past villages, churchyards, and
little towns that look positively dead. Late in the
afternoon the Rhine comes in sight; gray, shrouded
in mist, not at all like itself, without sunshine,
without merriment, without Englishmen, almost
without steamers, it grumbles and groans as if
vexed by some evil, melancholy dream, while a

178 ERLACH COURT.

thousand sad sighs tremhle through the red-and-
yellow vineyards on its shores, — the shores where
folly grows.

Away — on — on ! More dead towns, with dreamy
old names that fall upon the ear like echoes of an-
cient legends. Everything is drowsy; gray shadows
cover the earth; the night falls; green and red
lanterns gleam through the darkness.

Cologne !

Cologne, where one can sup, and dress, and at
all events see the cathedral in the dark.

CHAPTER XVIII.

SOPHIE OBLONSKY.

Stella and her mother have finished their sup-
per. The Baroness, who has exhausted her entire
stock of literary food provided for the journey,
is at the book-stall, looking for more reading-
matter ; she examines the counterfeit presentments
on exhibition there of the great German heroes,
the Emperor Wilhelm, Bismarck, and Von Moltke,
among which distinguished personages chance has
slipped in the portrait of Mademoiselle Zampa.
Suddenly, under a pile of books that seem to
have been pushed out of the way, she discovers

SOPHIE OBLONSKr. 179

a green pamphlet which she instantly recognizes as
a child of her own, an essay entitled ' Is Woman
to be Independent?' Of course she buys the
book, and, betaking herself to the small 'ladies'
parlour' adjoining the spacious waiting-room, takes
a seat opposite Stella, and, her eyes sparkling with
enthusiasm, is soon absorbed in the study of her
work.

Meanwhile, Stella has vainly tried to become
interested in the English novel purchased at H"urem-
berg ; she leaves the lovers, after their twenty-
second reconciliation, beneath a blossoming haw-
thorn, and, closing the book with a slight yawn,
sits up and looks about her. At the other end
of the room, as far as possible from Stella, sits
the pianist, writing a letter: from time to time
she looks up to bestow upon Stella a hostile glance.
On the other side of the same table two ladies
are engaged in partaking of the best supper that
the restaurant of the railway-hotel can afford, — a
supper with foie gras, mayonnaise of lobster, and
a bottle of champagne. One of them, with the
figure and face of a Juno, her costly furs falling
gracefully from her full shoulders, is so perfumed
that even the atmosphere about Stella reeks with
-peau d'Espagne. Eyebrows, lips — her entire face
is painted; and yet she does not look in the least
like a travelling prima donna.

« Cau that be the Princess Oblonsky ?" Stella

180 ERLACH COURT.

says to herself, with a start. " No doubt of it : it
is."

And there beside the Princess, on Stella's side of
the table, but with her back to her, — who is that ?

Jack Leskjewitsch always used to declare that
Stasy's shoulders were shaped like a champagne-
bottle. Stella wonders whether anywhere in the
world can be found a pair of more sloping shoulders
than those which that fur-trimmed circular fails to
conceal. Both ladies devote their entire attention
for a time to their supper; at last the Princess
pushes away her plate with a certain impatience,
and with an odd smile says, " "Where did you first
know him ?"

" Whom ?" asks the other.

It is Stasy, of course ; there maybe another woman
in the world with those same sloping shoulders, but
there can be none with such a thin, aifected voice.

" Why, him, my chevalier sans peur ei sans re-
proche," says the Princess.

" Edgar ? Oh, I spent a long time in the same
house with him last summer," Stasy declares.
" He is still one of the most interesting men I
have ever met. Such a profile ! such eyes ! and
so attractive in manner !"

The ladies speak French, the Princess with per-
fect fluency but a rather hard accent, Stasy some-
what stumblingly.

" Strange !" the Oblonsky murmurs.

SOPHIE OBLONSKY. 181

" What is strange ?" asks Stasy.

" Why, that you have seen him," the Princess
replies ; " that he is yet alive ; in fact, that he ever
did live, and that we loved each other. I was
wont for so many years to regard that episode at
Baden-Baden as a dream that at last I forgot that
the dream had any connection with reality." The
words fall from the beautiful woman's lips slowly,
softly, with veiled richness and intense melancholy.
After a pause she goes on : "I seem to have
read there in Baden-Baden a romance which en-
thralled my entire being ! It was on a lovely sum-
mer day, and the roses were in bloom all about me,
while delicious music in the distance fell dreamily
and softly on my ear, and the fragrance of roses
and the charm of melody mingled with the poem I
was reading. Suddenly, and before I had read to
the end, the romance slipped from my hands, and
since then I have sought it in vain! But it still
seems to me more charming than all the romances
in the world ; and I cannot cease from searching for
it, that I may read the last chapter." Then, sud-
denly changing her tone, she shrugs her shoulders
and says, " Who can tell what disappointment awaits
me ? — how Edgar may have changed ? How does
he seem ? Is he gay, contented with his lot 1"

" ISTo, Sonja, that he is not," Stasy assures her,
sentimentally. " To be sure, he is too proud to
parade his grief; in society he bears himself coldly,

16

182 ERLACH COURT.

indifferently ; but there is an inexpressible melan-
choly in his look. Oh, he has not forgotten !"

Stella's eyes flash angrily.

"She lies!" the heart in her breast cries out;
" she lies !"

Meanwhile, the friends clasp eacli other's hands
sympathetically.

" He never knew how I suffered," the Princess
sighs. " Does he suppose that I accepted Oblon-
sky's hand with any thought of self? ITo, — a
thousand times no ! I determined to free Edgar
from the martyrdom he was enduring from his
family because of me. I took upon myself the bur-
den of a joyless, loveless marriage, I had myself
nailed to the cross, for his sake !"

" She lies !" Stella's heart cries out again ; " she
lies !"

But Stasy sighs, " I always understood you,
Sonja." After a pause she adds, " You know, I
suppose, that he grew gray immediately after that
sad affair, — after your marriage, — almost in a single
night?"

" Grray !" murmurs the Princess ; " gray ! And
he had such beautiful dark-brown hair. He must
have heard much evil of me ; perhaps he believed
it : it pleases men to think evil of the women who
have caused them suffering. "Well, you know how
innocent were all the little flirtations with which I
tried in vain to fill the dreary vacuum of my ex-

SOPHIE OBLONSKY. 183

istence, from the artists whom I patronized, to Zinc
Capito, with whom I trifled. If only some one
could explain it all to him ! — or if" — the Princess's
eyes gleam with conscious power, — "if I could
only meet him myself, then "

" Then what?" says Stasy, threatening her friend
archly with her forefinger; " then you would turn
his head again, only to leave him to drag out a still
drearier existence than before."

" You are mistaken," the Princess whispers.
" There is many a strain of music that beginning
in a minor key changes to major only to close
softly and sweetly in minor tones. Anastasia, my
first marriage was a tomb in which I was buried
alive "

" And would you be buried alive for the second
time?" Stasy asks.

"No; I long for a resurrection."

A cold shiver of dread thrills Stella from head
to foot. The Baroness looks up from her pamphlet
and exclaims, "I really must read you this, Stella.
I do not understand how this brochure did not
attract more notice. To be sure, when one lives
so entirely withdrawn from all intercourse with the
literary world, and has no connection at all with
the journals, one may expect "

Stasy turns around. " My dear Baroness !" she
exclaims, with effusion. "And you too, Stella!
What a delightful surprise ! I must introduce

184 ERLACB COURT.

you : Baroness Meiueck and her daughter, — Prin-
cess Oblonsky."

"With the extreme graciousness which all great
ladies whose social position is partly compromised
testify towards their thoroughly respectable sisters,
the Princess rises and offers her hand to both Stella
and her mother. The Baroness smiles absently;
Stella does not smile, and barely touches with her
finger-tips the hand extended to her. Meanwhile,
Stasy has recognized in Fraulein Fuhrwesen an
old acquaintance from Zalow.

" Good-day, Fraulein Bertha !"— " Fraulein Ber-
tha Fuhrwesen, a very fine pianist," — to the Prin-
cess ; then to the Meinecks, " You are already
acquainted with her." And while the Princess talks
with much condescension to the pianist of her
adoration for music, Stasy whispers to Stella,
" Don't be so stiff towards Sonja : you might al-
most be supposed to be jealous of her."

" Ridiculous !" Stella says angrily through her
set teeth, and blushing to the roots of her hair.

Stasy taps her on the cheek with her forefinger,
with a pitying glance that takes in her entire
person, from her delicate — almost too delicate —
pale face to her shabby travelling-dress, the iden-
tical brown army-cloak which she had worn on
the journey to Venice three years before, and
rejoins, —

" Ridiculous indeed — most ridiculous — to dream

SOPHIE OBLONSKT. 185

of rivalling Sonja. Wherever she appears, we ordi-
nary women are nowhere."

"Verviers — Paris — Brussels!" the porter shouts
into the room.

All rise, and pick up plaids and travelling-bags ;
the porters hurry in ; a lanky footman and a sleepy-
looking maid wait upon the Princess Oblonsky,
who nods graciously as they all crowd out upon the
railway-platform. The Meinecks enter a coupe
where an American whose trousers are too short,
and his wife whose hat is too large, have already
taken their seats. The pianist looks in at the door,
but as soon as she perceives Stella starts back with
horror in her face.

" I seem to have made an enemy of that woman,"
Stella thinks, negligently. What does it matter to
her? Poor Stella! Could she but look into the
future !

The train starts ; while the Baroness, neglectful
of the simplest precautious with regard to her eyes,
continues to peruse her masterpiece by the yellow
light of the coupe lamp, the American goes to
sleep, hat and all, upon her companion's shoulder,
and Stella sits bolt upright in the cool draught of
night air by the window, repeating to herself alter-
nately, " I long for a resurrection !" and " Wherever
Sonja appears, we ordinary women are nowhere !"
She, then, is the enchantress who has ruined the

happiness of his life, — she the She is indeed

16*

186 ERLAGH COURT.

beautiful ; but how bollow, — how false ! ' Every-
thing about her — soul, heart, and all — is painted,
like her face. Could he possibly be her dupe a
second time ? Suddenly the girl feels the blood
rush to her cheeks.

" What affair is it of mine ? "What do I care ?"
she asks herself, angrily. " He too is false, vain,
and heartless; he too can act a part."

CHAPTER XIX.

PARIS.

Stella has scarcely closed her eyes, when the
train reaches Paris, about six o'clock. The morn-
ing is cold and damp, the usual darkness of .the
time of day disagreeably enhanced by the white
gloom of an autumn fog, — a gloom which the
street-lamps are powerless to counteract, and in
which they show like lustreless red specks.

Through this depressing white gloom, Stella and
her mother are driven in a rattling little omnibus,
with a couple of other travellers, through a Paris as
silent as the grave, to the Hotel Bedford, Eue Pas-
quier. An Englishwoman at Nice once recom-
mended it to the Baroness as thatwonder of wonders,
a first-class hotel with second-class prices, and it is
under English patronage. English lords and ladies

PARIS. 187

now and then occupy the first story, and conse-
quently the garret-rooms are continually inhabited
by impoverished but highly distinguished scions
of English " county families." In the reading-
room, between 'Burke's Peerage' and Lodge's
' Vicissitudes of Families' is placed an album con-
taining the photographs of two peeresses. The
clientUe is as aristocratic as it is economical : each
despises all the rest, and one and all dispute the
weekly bills. Stella and her mother are by no
means enchanted with this hotel, and they sally
forth as soon as they are somewhat rested, in
search of furnished lodgings.

But the funds are scanty : their expenses ought to
be paid out of a hundred and fifty francs a month !

The first day passes, and our Austrians have as
yet found nothing suitable. Tlie cheapest lodgings
are confined and dark, and smell, as the ladies ex-
press it, of English people ; that is, of a mixture
of camphor, patchouli, and old nut-shells. The
bedrooms in these cheap lodgings consist of a sort
of windowless closets, entirely dependent for ven-
tilation upon a door into the drawing-room which
can be left open at night.

Meanwhile, the living at the Bedford is dear.
The Baroness arrives at the conclusion that private
quarters at three hundred francs a month would be
more economical, and finally decides to spend this
sum upon her winter residence.

188 EJRLACS COURT.

For three hundred francs very much better lodg-
ings are to be had ; the bedrooms have windows,
but there are still all kinds of discomforts to be
endured, the worst of which consists perhaps in
the fact that none of the proprietors of these rooms,
which are mostly intended for bachelors, is willing
to undertake to provide food for the two ladies.

At last in the Rue de L§ze an appartement is found
which answers their really moderate requirements ;
but just at the last moment the Baroness discovers
that the concierge is a very suspicious-looking in-
dividual, and remembers that the previous year a
horrible murder was committed in the Rue de L§ze;
wherefore negotiations are at once broken off.

A pretty appartement in the Rue de 1' Arcade
pleases Stella particularly, perhaps because the
drawing-room is furnished with buhl cabinets.
The Baroness is just about to close with the con-
cierge, who does the honours of the place, — there
is merely a question of five francs to be settled, —
when with a suspicious sniff she remarks, " 'Tis
strange how strongly the atmosphere of this room
is impregnated with musk!"

Whereupon the concierge explains that the rooms
have lately been occupied by Mexican ,gentlemen,
who shared the reprehensible Southern habit of
indulging too freely in perfumes ; and when the
Baroness glances doubtfully at a dressing-table
which scarcely presents a masculine appearance,

PARIS. 189

and which boasts a sky-blue pincushion stuck full of
different kinds of pins, he hastens to add, without
waiting to be questioned, that the Mexican gentle-
men had chiefly occupied themselves in collecting
and arranging butterflies.

" Mexican men would seem to have long fair hair,
mamma," Stella here interposes, having just pulled
a golden hair at least a yard long out of the cro-
chetted antimacassar of a low chair.

The face of the Baroness, who always suspects
French immorality everywhere, turns to marble;
tossing her head, she grasps Stella by the hand
and hurries out with her, passing the astounded
concierge without so much as deigning to bid him
good-bye.

She refuses to take a lodging in the Rue Pas-
quier, because it seems to her ' too reasonable ;'
she is convinced that some one must have died
of cholera in a certain big bed with red curtains,
else the rent never would have been so low.

At last, after a four days' pilgrimage, the ladies
find what answers their requirements in a little
hotel called 'At the Three Negroes,' kept by a
kindly, light-hearted Irishwoman.

At the Baroness's first words, " We are looking
for lodgings for two quiet, respectable ladies," she
instantly rejoins, " My house will suit you exactly;
the quietest house in all Paris. I never receive
any — hm ! — a certain kind of ladies, and never

190 EELACH COURT.

more than one Deputy; two always quarrel."
Whereupon the Irishwoman and the Austrian lady
come 'to terms immediately, and the Meinecks
move into the second story of ' The Three Negroes'
that very day, the Irishwoman being quite ready
also to provide them with food. The price for a
salon and two bedrooms — with very large windows,
'tis true, as Stella observes — is three hundred and
twenty francs a month.

After the lodgings are thus fortunately secured the
Baroness sets about finding a singing-teacher for
Stella. Always decided and to the point, she goes
directly to the man in authority at the Grand Opera
to inquire for a 'first-class Professor.' Oddly
enough, it appears that this authority has no time
to attend to matters so important. Dismissed with
but slight encouragement, the Baroness tries her
fortune at the ofiice of one of the smaller operas;
but since she presents herself here with her daugh-
ter without introduction of any kind, the official
seated behind a dusty writing-table has no time to
devote to her, all that he has being absorbed in
a quarrel with two ladies who have just applied to
him for the ninth time, — "- yes," he exclaims, with
a despairing flourish of his hands, " for the ninth
time this month, for free tickets !"

"Whilst the Baroness and Stella linger hesitatingly
on the threshold, a slender, sallow young man with

PARIS. 191

sharply-cut features, and with a picturesque Astra-
chan collar and a very long surtout, enters the place
by an opposite door. He scans Stella's face and
figure keenly, and, approaching her, asks what she
desires. The Baroness informs him of their busi-
ness, whereupon ensues an exchange of civilities
and mutual introductions.

The gentleman in the fur collar is none other
than the famous impresario Morinski, now on the
lookout for a new Patti.

With a pleasant glance towards Stella, he asks
who has been the young lady's teacher hitherto.

Of whom has she not taken lessons ! The list of
her teachers embraces Carelli at Naples, Lamperti
at Milan, Garcia in London, and Tosti in Rome.

Here Morinski shakes his black curly head, says,
" Too many cooks spoil the broth," and asks, "Why
did you not stay longer with one teacher ?"

The Baroness takes it upon herself to reply, and
explains at considerable length how her historical
schemes and researches have hitherto rendered a
wandering life for herself and her daughter im-
peratively necessary.

Morinski, who seems to take more interest in
Stella's fine eyes than in her mother's historical
studies, interrupts the elder lady with some rude-
ness, and, turning to Stella, asks, " Do you intend
to go upon the stage ?"

" Yes," Stella meekly replies.

192 ERLACH COURT.

" Only upon condition of her capacity to become
a star of the first magnitude should I consent to
my daughter's going upon the stage," the Baroness
declares, in her magnificent manner.

" It is a little difficult to prognosticate with cer-
tainty in such a case," Herr Morinski observes, with
an odd smile. " Hm ! hm ! You may sometimes
see a brilliant meteor flash across the skies, larger
apparently than any of the stars ; you fix your eyes
upon it, but hardly have you begun to admire
so exquisite a natural phenomenon when it has
vanished. Another time you scarcely perceive a
small red spark lying on the pavement, but before
you are aware of it, it has set fire to half the town.
Just so it is with our artistic debuts."

At the close of this tirade, which Herr Morinski
has enunciated in very harsh French with a strong
Jewish accent, he turns again to Stella and asks,
""Will you sing me something? It would interest
me very much to hear you."

Stella's heart beats fast. How many other singers
have had to engage in an interminable corre-
spondence and to entreat for infinite patronage
before gaining admission to the famous Morinski
and inducing him to listen to them, while he has
asked her to sing, unsolicited, after scarcely ten
minutes' conversation !

She gratefully accedes to his proposal.

" I should greatly prefer your making the trial

PARIS. 193

on the stage itself, rather than in the foyer," says
Morinski. " I could decide far better as to the
strength of your voice. Have the kindness to
follow me."

And, leading the way, he precedes them through
an endless labyrinth of ill-lighted corridors to the
stage, which, illuminated at this hour by only a
couple of foot-lights, shows gray and colourless
against the pitch-dark auditorium.

The boards of the stage are marked with various
lines in chalk, cabalistic signs of mysterious signifi-
cance to Stella; in front of the prompter's box
stands a prima donna with her bonnet-strings un-
tied and her fur cloak hanging loosely about her
shoulders, singing in an undertone a duet with a
tenor in a tall silk hat who is kneeling at her feet;
at the piano, just below, sits the leader of the
orchestra, a little Italian, with long, straight, white
hair, and dark eyebrows that protrude for at least
an inch over his fierce black eyes, pounding away
at the accompaniment, evidently more to accentuate
the rhythm than with any desire to accompany
harmoniously the duet of the pair.

" The rehearsal will be over immediately," Mo-
rinski assures the two ladies.

In fact, the duo between the prima donna and the

tenor shortly comes to an end. A short discussion

ensues, during which the prima donna alternately

scolds the leader, whom she accuses of paying no

I n 17

194 ERLACH COURT.

attention to the riiardandos, and the tenor for Lis
" lamentable want of all passion."

Morinski throws himself metaphorically between
the disputants and kisses the prima donna's hand.
"Without paying him much attention, she scans
Stella from head to foot, says, with an ironical de-
pression of the corners of her mouth, " Ah ! a new
star, Morinski !" and withdraws, with an intensely
theatrical stride, her loose fur dolman trailing be-
hind her.

" Hm ! a new star, Morinski !" the leader re-
peats also ironically, stuffing an immense pinch of
snuff the while into his nose.

"Let us hope so," Morinski replies, with re-
proving courtesy.

" Is the signorina to sing us something ? It is
twelve o'clock, Morinski ; I am hungry. If it
must be, let us be .quick. "What shall I accompany
for you, mademoiselle ?"

" Ahfors' & lui che I'anima!" Stella says, in a shy
whisper, " from "

" I know, I know, — from Traviata," the leader
replies. " You sing it in the original key ?"

" Yes."

Almost before Stella has time to take breath, the
little man has struck the chords of the prelude. In
the midst of the aria he takes his hands from the
keys, and shakes his head disapprovingly, so that
his long hair flutters about his ears.

PARIS. 195

" Eh bien ?" Morinski calls, with some irritation.

" I have heard enough," the other declares, de-
cidedly. " Haven't you, Morinski ? It is a per-
fectly impossible way to sing, — a perfectly impossi-
ble way!"

" Do not be discouraged, Fraulein," says Morin-
ski, reassuringly. " Your voice is superb, full, soft,
: — one of the finest that I have heard for a long
time."

" I do not say no, Morinski," the leader inter-
poses, with the croak of a raven, " but she is ab-
solutely lacking in rhythm, routine, and aplomb."

" She needs a good teacher," says Morinski.

" The teacher has nothing to do with it !" shouts
the leader, and with an annihilating stare at Stella
he sums up his judgment of her in the words,
" C'est unefemme da monde. You will never make
a singer of her!" Then, with the energy that
characterizes his every movement, he sets about
trying to repair the injury he has just done to his
silk hat by brushing it the wrong way.

Poor Stella's eyes fill with tears. Morinski takes
both her hands :

" Do not be discouraged, I beg of you, my dear
mademoiselle, I entreat;" and with an ardent
glance at her delicate face he assures her, " Believe
me, you have great qualifications for success on the
stage."

" Trust to my experience, — the experience of

196 ERLACH COURT.

forty years; you never will succeed on the stage !"
shouts the Italian.

" ISTever mind what he says," Morinski whispers.
" I will do all I can for you. I shall take great
pleasure in superintending your lessons personally."

But the leader has sharp ears : " Pas de bttises,
Morinski !" He has put on his hat, and is search-
ing with characteristic eagerness in all his pockets.
" There is my card," he says, at last, drawing it
forth and handing it to the Baroness. " If you
want your daughter taught to sing, take her to
della Seggiola, Rue Lamartine, ITo , the sing-
ing-teacher of the Fauhourg Saint-Germain and
the Faubourg Saint-Honore, precisely what you
want. Refer to me if you like ; he will make his
charges reasonable for you. Dio mio, how hungry
I am ! Allans, Morinski !"

This is the exact history of Stella Meineck's trial
of her voice at the lyric opera in Paris.

The Baroness has just enough sense and pru-
dence left not to allow Stella to take lessons of
Morinski.

Following the advice of the energetic Italian, she
takes her daughter to Signor della Seggiola.

THERESE BE ROHRITZ. 197

CHAPTER XX.

TH^RllSB DE KOHRITZ.

"Winter — such winter as Paris is familiar with
— has set in, to make itself at home. The gar-
deners have stripped the squares and public
gardens of their last flowers; the trees and the
grass and the bare sod are powdered with snow.
When one says ' as white' or ' as pure' as snow,
one must never think of Paris snow, for it is
brown, black, gray, — everything except white; and,
as if ashamed of its characterless existence, it creeps
as soon as possible into the earth.

Full six weeks have passed since the Meiuecks
took up their abode in 'The Three JSTegroes.' In
order to increase their means, the Baroness has
generously determined to write newspaper articles,
although she has a supreme contempt for all jour-
nalistic effort, and she has also completed two
shorter essays, for which the Berlin ' Tribune' paid
her twenty-five marks.

With a view to making her descriptions of the
world's capital vividly real, she pursues her study
of Paris with all the thoroughness that charac-
terizes her study of history. She has visited the
Morgue, as well as Valentino's, note-book in hand.

17*

198 ERLAGH COURT.

but escorted by an old carpenter, who once mended '
a trunk for her and won her heart by his sensible
way of talking politics. She paid him five francs
for his companionship, and maintains that he was
far less tiresome at Valentino's than a fine gentle-
man. She has devised a most interesting visit
shortly to be paid to the Parisian sewers. Mean-
while, in order to make herself perfectly familiar
with the life of the streets, she spends three hours
daily, two in the forenoon and one in the after-
noon, upon the top of various omnibuses.

And Stella, — how does she pass her time ? Four
times a week she takes a singing-lesson, — two private
lessons, and two in della Seggiola's ' class,' besides
which she practises daily for about two hours at
home. She is at liberty to spend the rest of her
time in any mode of self-culture that pleases her.
She can go, if she is so inclined, to the Rue Hiche-
lieu with her mother, or visit the Louvre alone,
can attend to little matters at home, or read learned
works and write extracts from them in the book
bound in antique leather which her mother gave
her upon her birthday.

What wealth of various and interesting occupa-
tions and pleasures for a girl of twenty-one ! It is
quite inconceivable, but nevertheless it is true, that
iu spite of them she feels lonely and unhappy, —
grows daily more nervous and restless, and, without
being able to define exactly the cause of her sadness,

THERESE DE ROHRITZ. 199

more melancholy. Her energetic mother, to whom
such a vague discontent is absolutely inconceivable,
reproaches her with a want of earnestness in her
studies and induces a physician to prescribe iron
for her.

What is there that iron is not expected to cure ?

To-day Stella is again alone at home; her
mother has gone out after lunch to take her bird's-
eye view of Paris from the top of an omnibus. She
hal graciously offered to take Stella with her, but
Stella thanks her and declines ; she detests riding
in omnibuses, on the top she grows dizzy, and in-
side she becomes ill.

" Well, I suppose the only thing that would
really please you would be to drive in a barouche-
and-pair in the Bois," her mother remarks. " Un-
fortunately, that I cannot afford." With which
she hurries away.

Stella's throat aches ; she often has a throat-ache,
— the specific throat-ache of a poor child of mor-
tality who has learned to sing with seven different
professors, and whose voice has been treated at
different times as a soprano, a mezzo-soprano, and
a deep contralto. She has been obliged to stop prac-
tising in consequence, to-day, and has taken up a
volume of Gibbon, but is too distraite to compre-
hend what she reads. It really is strange how
slight an interest she takes in the decline of the
Eoman Empire.

200 ERLACH COURT.

" And if I should not succeed upon the stage, if
my voice should not turn out well," she constantly
asks herself, " what then ? what then ?"

"Why, for a moment — oh, how her cheeks burn
as she recalls her delusion ! — she absolutely allowed

herself to imagine that How bitterly she has

learned to sneer at her fantastic dreams !

"Has Edmund Eohritz's wife not yet been to see
you?" Leskjewitsch had asked her mother in a
letter shortly before. " You do not know her, but
I begged Edgar awhile ago to send her to you, —
she would be so advantageous an acquaintance for
Stella."

"She would indeed," the poor child thinks ; " but
not even his old friend's request has induced him
to do me a kindness."

Her sad, weary glance wanders absently over the
various lithographs that adorn the walls, portraits
of famous singers, Tamberlik, Eubiui, Mario, all
with the signature of those celebrities. Apparently
the hotel must formerly have enjoyed an extensive
artistic patronage.

She takes up Gibbon once more, and does her
best to become absorbed in the destinies of the
tribunes of the people. In vain.

" Grood heavens !" she exclaims, irritably, " who
could read a serious book in all this noise ? And
' The I^egroes' was recommended to us as a quiet
hotel !"

THERhSE DE ROHRITZ. 201

The Deputy from the south of Fraifce is pacing
the room above her to and fro, now repeating in a
murmur and anon declaiming with grotesque pathos
to the empty air the speech which he is learning
by heart.

In the room next to him an amateur performer is
piping ' The Last Rose of Summer' on a very hoarse
flute, — an English bagman, who is suffering from
an inflammation of the eyes, wherefore we must not
grudge him his musical distractions. He is piping
' The Last Rose' for the eighteenth time ; Stella
has counted.

" 'Tis beyond endurance !" the girl exclaims,
closing her Gibbon. "Ah, heavens, how dreary
life is !" she groans. " I wish I were dead !"

Just then there comes a ring at the door. Stella
opens it. A tall, smooth-shaven lackey stands in
the corridor and hands her a card :

" La Baronne Edrnond de Hohritz, nee Princesse
Capito."

" Madame la Baronne wishes to know if the
Frau Baroness is receiving ?" the man asks, van-
ishing when Stella assents.

" He probably takes me for a waiting-maid,"
Stella thinks, childishly, not without some petty
annoyance that she was forced to open the door her-
self for the- servant, and she hurries into the salon,
to put away a piece of mending which is by no
means ornamental. Scarcely has she done so when

202 ERLACH COURT.

a light foot-fall comes tripping up tlie stairs. There
is another ring, and again Stella opens the door. A
lady enters, slender, very pale, with delicately-cut
features, and large, black, rather restless eyes, which
she slightly closes as she looks at Stella, and then
pleasantly holds out her hand :

" Mademoiselle Meineck, n'est-ce pas ?"

I^ot for one moment is she in douht whether
this tall girl in a plain stuff dress be a soubrette
or not.

" My brother-in-law Rohritz wrote me some time
ago telling me to call upon your mother and your-
self and to ask if I could be of any service to you.
I have promised myself the pleasure of doing so
every day since ; my very critical brother's letter
inspired me with eager curiosity; but one never
has time for anything in Paris, — nothing pleasant,
that is. "Well, here I am at last. Is your mother
at home ?"

" My mother has gone out, but will shortly
return; she would greatly regret missing you,
madame. If you could be content with my society
for a while " Stella rejoins.

" I should be delighted to have a little talk with
you," the lady assures her ; " but do you suppose
I have time to stay ? What an idea in Paris ! I
had to fairly steal a quarter of an hour of time
already appropriated to come to see you. "We
must postpone our talk. I trust I shall see a great

TH&RESE DE ROBRITZ. 203

deal of you ; I am always at leisure in the ev-en-
ing,— that is, when I do not have to go to bed
from sheer fatigue ! And how have you passed
the time since you came to Paris ?"

Madame de Rohritz has installed herself in an
arm-chair by the fireplace, has put up her veil
and thrown back her furs from her shoulders.

A delicate fragrance exhales from hel- robes ; all
Parisian women use perfumes, but how refined,
how exquisite, is this fragrance compared with the
overpowering odour of Peau, d'Espagne which 'sur-
rounds the Princess Oblonsky !

Therfese Rohritz does not possess her brother's
beauty, but everything about her is graceful and
attractive, — her veiled glance, — a glance which
can be half impertinent sometimes, but which rests
upon Stella with evident liking, — her beaming and
yet slightly weary smile, — ^yes, even her hurried
articulation and her high-pitched but soft and
melodious voice.

" How have you passed the time since you came
to Paris ?" she asks again.

" We live very quietly," Stella stammers.
/'Mamma is studying that she may finish her
book, and of course has no time to go out with
me."

" Yes, yes, I know ; my brother-in-law told me,"
Madame de Rohritz replies. " And you "

"I? I take singing-lessons four times a week."

204 ERLACH COURT.

" My brother-in-law wrote me that you intend to
go upon the stage." Madame de Rohritz laughs.
"If I were a Frenchwoman I should be horrified
at the idea, but I am half an Austrian. I know
those whims : a cousin of mine, a E-ussian, Natalie
Lipinski "

"lifatalie Lipinski! Ah!" Stella exclaims; " nly
fellow-student. "We take lessons together twice a
week in Signor della Seggiola's class."

"Indeed! "Well, she is thinking of going upon
the stage, — and with a fortune of ten million rou-
bles. In Austria and Russia such ideas will take
possession of the brains of the best-born and best-
bred girls; cela ne tire pas d consequence! I never
oppose xTatalie, but I mean to have her married
before she knows what she is about. And what
shall I do with you, my fair one with the golden
locks? Do you know I like you exceedingly?
Le coup defoudre enplein, — love at first sight."

The clock on the chimney-piece — a clock ap-
parently dating from the days when ' L'Africaine'
was the rage, for the face is adorned with a man-
chineel-tree in miniature and a barbaric maiden in
a head-dress of feathers dying beneath it — strikes
three.

The lady starts up, takes out her watch, and
compares it with the clock.

" Positively three o'clock, and my poor little
boy is waiting for me in the carriage ! I was to

AN AUSTRIAN HOST. 205

take him to his solfeggio class at three. Adieu,
adieu ; my compliments to your mother, and au re-
voir, n'est-ce pas ?" She turns once again in the
door-way, and, taking both Stella's hands, says,
"You will come to dine with us once this week
with your mother quite en famille the first time,
that we may learn to know one another. I will
excuse a formal call : you can pay that later : it is
silly to lose time with formalities when one is sim-
paiiea. Adieu, adieu. "What beautiful eyes you
have ! Je me sauve .'"

The lively young madame kisses Stella's fore-
head, a;hd then goes — or rather flies — away.

Stella's heart beats fast and loud.

" After all, he sent her : he has not quite forgot-
ten me."

CHAPTEE XXI.

AN AUSTRIAN HOSX.

" Hm ! indeed ! ISow I can no longer be shabby
at my ease." These were the words with which
the Baroness on -her return home greeted Stella's
joyous announcement of Madame de Rohritz's visit.
" I took such pleasure in living in a place where
nobody knew me."

18

206 ERLACH COURT.

However problematical in some respects the cre-
ative power of the Baroness may be, she is certainly
thoroughly saturated with what the English call
' the sublime egotism of genius.'

When on the morning after her visit a note
redolent of vi&lets arrives from Madame de Rohritz,
inviting in the kindest manner the two ladies to
dinner at half-past seven the next evening but one,
the Baroness makes a wry face, and remarks that
really Madame de Rohritz might have waited until
her call had been returned, — that such a degree
of eagerness on the part of a woman of the world
betokens a degree of exaggeration, — but, despite
her grumbling, permits herself to accede to the
entreaty in her daughter's eyes, and to accept the
invitation.

" Upon condition that you atten 1 to my dress,"
she says; to which Stella of course makes no
objection.

The evening wardrobe of the Baroness consists
of a black velvet gown which is now precisely
seventeen years old, and which underwent reno-
vation at the time of her eldest daughter's mar-
riage. The number of Stella's evening dresses is
limited to two very charming gowns which the
colonel had made for her in Venice, regardless of
expense, by the best dress-maker there, but which
are at present slightly old-fashioned.

But, neglectful as the Baroness is about her per-

AN AUSTRIAN HOST. 207

sonal appearance, she has an air of great distinc-
tion when she makes up her mind to be pre-
sentable, and covers her short gray hair, usually
flying loose about her ears, with a black lace cap ;
while Stella is always charming. She would be
lovely in the brown robe of a monk ; in her pale-
blue cachemire, with a bunch of yellow roses on her
left shoulder, directly below her ear, she is bewitch-
ing. Her heart throbs not a little as she drives
with her mother in a draughty, rattling fiacre across
;^aris to the Avenue Villiers.

She is not at all tired of life to-day, but, entirely
forgetting how quickly her air-built castles fall to
ruin, she is eagerly engaged again in similar archi-
tecture.

Madame de Rohritz occupies a rather small hotel
with a court-yard and garden. The entire house-
hold conveys the impression of distinguished com-
fort without ostentation. In the vestibule — a gem
of a vestibule, with two ancient Japanese mon-
sters on either side of the doo^ of entrance, with
Flanders tapestries embroidered in gold on the
walls, and Oriental rugs under-foot — a servant re-
lieves the ladies of their wraps.

Stella immediately perceives by the way in which
her mother arranges her hair before the mirror
that, whether it be the monsters at the door, or
the Arazzi on the wall, something has had a bene-
ficial effect upon her mood, — that to-night, as is

208 ERLACH COURT.

sometimes the case, her ambition is roused to
prove that a learned woman under certain cir-
cumstances can be more amiable and amusing
than any woman with nothing in her head save
' dress and the men.'

In the salon, whither they are conducted by the
maltre-d'hotel, a familiar spirit who is half a head
shorter but half a head more dignified than the foot-
man, they find only the master of the house. Not
introduced, and quite unacquainted, he neverthe-
less advances with both hands extended, saying, —

" It rejoices me exceedingly to welcome two of
my compatriots !"

" It rejoices us also," the Baroness amiably as-
sures him.

Baron Eohritz scans her with discreetly-veiled
curiosity. " Why did my brother write that I
should find the Baroness rather extraordinary at
first? She is a charming, distinguished old lady."
Aloud he says, " My wife made promises loud and
earnest to be here in time to present me to the
ladies ; but it seems she was mistaken."

" Perhaps we were too punctual," the Baroness
replies, smiling.

" ITot at all," the Baron declares ; " but my poor
wife is proverbially unpunctual. No one has ever
been able to convince her that there are but sixty
minutes in an hour, and consequently she always
tries to do in an afternoon that for which an entire

AN AUSTRIAN HOST. 209

week would hardly suffice. Pray warm yourselves
meanwhile, ladies : here, these are the most com-
fortable places, — not too near the blaze. I have
had an Austrian fire made for you, and have
actually nearly succeeded in warming the entire
salon. We Austrians require a higher degree of
heat than these crazy Frenchmen; they always
maintain they are never cold ; they are quite satis-
fied if they can see a little picturesque blaze in
the chimney, and they sit down close to it and
thrust their hands and feet and heads into it,
thereby giving themselves chilblains, neuralgia,
rheumatism, and heaven knows what else; but
they are never cold."

Although the fire is large enough. Baron Eoh-
ritz throws on another log, so eager is he to bear
his testimony to the aftectation and self-conceit
of the Parisians.

" How wonderfully cosey and comfortable you
have contrived to make your home here ! As I
entered I seemed to be breathing the air of Aus-
tria. Since we came to Paris I have not felt so
comfortable as at present," says the Baroness. If
Baron Rohritz -knew that since her arrival in Paris
her time has been spent either on the top of an
omnibus or in rather comfortless furnished lods:-
ings, the worth of this compliment might be less :
in happy ignorance, however, he feels extremely
flattered, and, with a bow, rejoins,—
o 18*

210 ERLACH COURT.

" I am very glad our nest pleases you. The
chief credit for its arrangement belongs to my
wife. You cannot imagine how she runs herself
out of breath to pick up pretty things. But it is
like Austria here, is it not ?"

" Entirely," the Baroness assures him.

" My wife is incomprehensible to me," the mas-
ter of the house remarks, after the above inter-
change of civilities, glancing uneasily at the clock
on the chimney-piece. " It is now just half an
hour since I helped her half dead out of a fiacre,
with I cannot tell how many packages. I trust
she is not "

The portiere rustles apart. Extremely slender,
bringing with her the odour of violets, and
shrouded in a mass of black crSpe de Chine and
black lace, dying with fatigue and sparkling with
vivacity, the Baroness Kohritz enters, fastening the
clasp of a bracelet as she does so.

" Good-evening. I beg a thousand pardons ! I
am excessively glad to make your acquaintance,
Baroness Meineck. Can you forgive my ill-breed-
ing in keeping you waiting on this the first even-
ing that you have given me the pleasure of seeing
you here ? It is terrible !"

" Ah, don't mention it," the Baroness replies,
and, although the younger lady speaks German in
her honour, answering in French: she is very
proud of her French.

AN AUSTRIAN HOST. 211

" Mais si, mais si, I am most unfortunate, but
innocent, — quite innocent. It is positively impos-
sible to be in time in Paris. Well, and how do
you do ?" turning to Stella and lightly passing her
band over tlie girl's cheek. "You are always
twitting me with my enthusiasm, Edmund : did I
exaggerate this time ?"

" Ko, not in the least," her husband affirms : it
would have been difficult, however, for him to make
any other reply without infringing upon the rules
of politeness.

" "Who made your dress for you ? It is charm-
ing. And how beautifully you have put in your
roses ! — but violet suits light blue better than yel-
low. Shall we change?" And, unfastening the
roses from Stella's shoulder, Therese Eohritz takes
a bunch of dark Russian violets from her girdle
and arranges them on Stella's gown, all with the
same graceful, laughing, breathless amiability.

To conquer all hearts, to make everybody happy,
to give every one advice, to attend to every one's
commissions, to oblige all the world, — this is the
mania of Edgar's sister-in-law.' He once declared
that she went whirling through existence, a perfect
hurricane of over-excellent qualities.

" What are we waiting for, Therese ?" the mas-
ter of the house interrupts the flow of his wife's
eloquence, in a rather impatient tone.

"For Zino."

212 ERLACH COURT.

"He excused himself. I put his note on your
dressing-tahle. "When he received your invitation
he was unfortunately — very unfortunately, under-
scored — engaged; but he hopes to be here soon
after ten," Rohritz explains, having rung the bell
meanwhile, whereupon the maitre-d'hotel, throw-
ing open the folding-doors, announces, —

" Madame la Baronne est Servie,"

CHAPTER XXII.

FRENCH INFEEIORITT,

One observation Stella makes during the dinner,
— namely, that married people apparently living
happily together in Paris suffer quite as much
from a chronic difference of opinion as those in
Austria. Baron Rohritz and Therfese do not quarrel
one iota less than Jack Leskjewitsch and his wife.

Although Rohritz, as a former diplomatist, — a
career which he abandoned five years ago on ac-
count of a difference with his chief and an abso-
lute lack of ambition, — and from long residence
in Paris, speaks perfect French, the conversation
at his special request is carried on in German.

During dinner he incessantly makes all kinds of
comparisons between Austria and France, of course

FRENCH INFERIORITV. 213

to the disadvantage of the latter country. Nothing
suits him in Paris ; he abuses everything, from the
perfect cooking, as it appears at his own table, to
the exquisite troop of actors at the Frangais.

" I have no objection to make to the fish," he
says, condescendingly. " I am entirely without
prejudice ; and when there is anything to be
praised in France I always do it justice. But
look at the game : French game is deplorable, —
marshy, tasteless, without flavour. Even the Stras-
burg pie can be had better in Vienna. Do you
not think so ?"

" You will be thought an actual ogre, Edmund,"
Therfese remonstrates, half laughing, half vexed.
" You talk of nothing to-day but food."

"Perhaps so; but, as you will have observed,
only from a lofty, strictly patriotic point of view,"
her husband remarks, composedly.

" Of course," Therese replies. " I can, however,
assure you," she says, turning to her guests, " that
although I cannot defend the Parisians in all re-
spects, in one thing they are far beyond the Vien-
nese : although they do not fall behind them in
cookery, they think much less of things to eat."

" True," Edmund agrees, " and very naturally ;
they think less of their eating because they can't
eat; they have no digestion. They certainly are
a weak, degenerate race. Did you ever watch
a regiment of French soldiers march past, ladies.

214 ERLACH COURT.

either cavalry or infantry ? It is quite pitiable,
their military. Do you not think so?"

The Baroness cannot help admitting that he is
. measurably right this time, and as the widow of
a soldier she indulges in a hymn of praise of the
Austrian army, thus enchanting the Baron, who
before entering the diplomatic corps served, to
complete his education, in a cavalry regiment.

" I should really like to know why these people
are in such a hurry," he begins again, after a while,
calling attention to the speed with which dinner
is being served. " I suppose the rascals intend to
go to Valentino's after dinner."

" Their hurry will do them no good then,"
Therese remarks, shrugging her shoulders ; " they
will have to serve tea later in the evening. I
simply suppose that they take it as a personal af-
front that we should converse in a language which
they do not understand."

" Possibly," sighs Rohritz. " These Parisian
lackeys are intolerable; their pretensions far out-
strip our modest Austrian means. You may read
plainly in their faces, ' I serve, 'tis true, but I ad-
here to the immortal principles of '89.' Every
fellow is convinced that his period of servitude
is only an intermezzo in his life, and that some fine
day he shall be Duke of Persigny or Malakofij — in
short, a far grander gentleman than I. Am I not
right, Therese ?"

FRENCH INFERIORITr. 215

" Perfectly," his wife asserts. " But let me ask
you one question, my dear: if you find Paris so
inferior in everything, from Strasburg pie to the
domestics, why did you not stay in Vienna ?"

" Oh, that is another question, — quite a different
question," Rohritz replies.

" Ah, yes," Ther^se says, triumphantly. " You
must know, ladies, that my husband's patriotism is
not so ardent as would seem, but rather of a pla-
tonic character ; he loves his country at a distance.
"When, five years ago, after we had been here some
time, he gave up his career and wanted to go back
to Vienna, I made no objections whatever, and we
established ourselves in his beloved native city, at
first only provisionally. At the end of six months
he was so frightfully bored that he actually longed
for Paris."

Edmund dips his fingers in his finger-glass with
a slightly embarrassed air.

" That is true," he admits. " Paris is the Manon
Lescaut of European capitals : worthless thing that
she is, we can never be rid of her if she has once
bewitched us."

And as Therese prepares to rise from table he
asks, " Do you object to a cigarette, ladies, and
are you fond of children?- Then, Therese, let us
take coffee in the smoking-room, where I am sure
the children are waiting for me."

216 ERLACH COURT.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PEINCE ZINO CAPITO.

The smoking-room is a somewhat narrow apart-
ment, with a large Oriental rug before the broad
double windows, with very beautiful old weapons
in a couple of stands against the wall, and with
heavy antique carved oaken chests. The broad low
arm-chairs and divans are covered with Oriental
rugs and carpets which Rohritz, as he informs
Stella, brought from Cairo himself.

The two children, a little boy twelve years old,
with tight red stockings and very short breeches,
and a little girl hardly three, in a white gown,
with bare legs and arms, help their mamma to
serve the coffee. Momond takes the ladies their
cups, and Baby is steady enough on her legs to
trip after him with a face of great solemnity, carry-
ing the silver sugar-bowl tightly hugged up in
her arms. After she has happily completed her
round she puts the sugar-bowl down before her
mother, with a sigh of relief as over a difficult duty
fulfilled, and smooths down her short, stiff skirts
with a very decorous air. But when her father,
from the other side of the room, where he is talking
with Stella, smiles at her, she runs to him with a

PRINCE ZmO CAPITO. 217

glad cry, forgetting all decorum springs into his
lap, and is petted and caressed by him to his heart's
content.

" Do you know whom that picture represents.
Baroness Stella?" the host now asks, pointing
to a life-size photograph hanging beneath the por-
trait in oil of a beautiful, fair woman. Although
Stella had noticed the photograph as soon as she
entered the smoking-room, she pretends to have
her attention attracted by it for the first time.

" Yes, the likeness can still be recognized," she
replies, bestowing a critical glance upon the pic-
ture, " although if it ever looked really like Baron
Edgar Eohritz he must have altered very much."

" Of course," says Rohritz : " the picture was
taken twelve years ago. Edgar had it taken
for our mother, just before he went to Mexico.
When he returned to Europe, three j'ears later,
our mother was dead, and he was gray, — gray at
twenty-seven ! As he was always our mother's
favourite, I have hung his picture below hers."

"I maintain that photograph to be the hand-
somest head of a man which I know," Therese
interrupts her conversation with the Baroness to
declare. " "We often dispute about it with my
brother Zino, who always cites the Apollo Bel-
vedere a? the highest type of manly beauty "

" Because he himself resembles that arrogant fel-
low in the Vatican," her husband interposes, dryly.

K 19

218 ERLACH COURT.

It is strange how constantly the elder brother
recalls Baron Edgar, although considerably older,
and by no means so distinguished in looks.

Meanwhile, Therfese runs on with her usual
fluency :

" It is an immense pity that my brother-in-law
cannot make up his mind to marry. Tou really
cannot imagine, ladies, the pains I have taken
to throw the lasso over his head. Quite in vain !
And such superb matches as I have made for him,
— Marguerite de Lusignan, who has just married
the Duke Cesarini, and the charming Marie de
Qallifere, — in short, the loveliest, wealthiest girls,
— tout ee qu'il y a de mieux. Oddly enough, the
mothers liked him as well as the daughters. In
vain ! I never have seen a man with so decided
a distaste for matrimony as Edgar's. Did you
chance to hear of the scheme by which he con-
trived in Gratz to rid himself of manoeuvring
mammas ?"

"Yes," says Stella, very coldly: "he spread
abroad a report that he had suddenly lost his
property."

" A delicious idea," Therfese laughs. " Do you
not think so ?"

Stella is silent.

" It never occurred to him to originate the re-
port," Edmund interposes now, rather irritably;
" he was merely too lazy to contradict it. To hear

PRINCE ZINO CAPITO. 219

you talk, Th^rfese, one would suppose Edgar to be
the most self-conceited coxcomb under the sun, —
a man who spent his life in defending himself
from the attacks of matrimonially-inclined ladies.
But I assure you. Baroness Stella, that Edgar has
not a trace of such nonsensical coxcombry. Per-
haps you know him well enough to make your own
estimate of his character."

" I know him very superficially," Stella replies,
with a shrug.

" Why, I thought you spent several weeks last
summer with him at Leskjewitsch's," says Roh-
ritz, looking at her in surprise.

Without making any reply to this remark, Stella
opens and shuts her fan, and says, with a slight
curl of her lip, " His heroic opposition seems
overcome at last; for, as I learned lately from a
letter from Gratz, he has just been betrothed to a
certain little Countess Strahlheim."

" Who wrote you so ?" Ther^se cries. " That
interests me immensely ! Oh, the Machiavelli !"

"I had the intelligence from a Fraulein von
Gurlichingen," says Stella.

" Gurlichingen ? Anastasia Gurlichingen V asks
the Baron.

" You know the Gurlichingen ?" Stella asks, in
her turn.

"Know her! Who does not know the Gur-
lichingen V says Rohritz. " She is the most rest-

220 ERLAGH COURT.

less phantom I have ever encountered, continually
fluttering to and fro through the world, always
in the train of some wealthy friend who pays her
expenses. It has been her specialty hitherto to
sacrifice herself for consumptive ladies : she has
haunted Meran, Cairo, Corfu. There was no taint
of legacy-hunting in her conduct, — heaven forbid
such a suspicion ! Hm ! my brother-in-law Zino
christened her the turkey-buzzard. If you owe
your piece of news to no more trustworthy source
of information, Baroness Stella, I must take the
liberty of doubting its correctness."

" You know she is in Paris ? She called upon
me a little while ago, but I was not at home," said
Therfese, turning to Stella. " Have you any idea
whom she is with now 1"

" "With the Princess Oblonsky," Stella replies.

"With the Oblonsky? E'ot with the former
von Fohren ?" husband and wife exclaim simulta-
neously.

" Certainly !"

" What a joke !— with the Oblonsky !"

Therfese almost chokes with laughter.

It is ten o'clock. The children have long since
disappeared with their bonne; the servant has
brought in the tea-equipage. There is a pause in
the conversation, such as is apt to ensue when
people have laughed until they are tired. The
liaron puts a fresh log on the fire and rakes the

PRINCE ZINO CAPITO. 221

embers together. The blaze flames and crackles ;
little hovering lights and shadows dance over the
old golden-brown leather tapestries. Suddenly the
door opens, and unannounced, with the sans gine
of close relationship, a young man enters the room,
tall, slender, with a certain attractive audacity ex-
pressed in the lines about his mouth and in his
eyes which puts beyond question his resemblance
to the Olympian dandy. It is the Apollo of modern
drawing-room dimensions, the Apollo forty-four
years old, already a little gray about the temples,
with a wrinkle or two at the corners of his eyes,
in a coat of Poole's, a gardenia in his button-hole,
his crush hat under his arm, — Prince Zino Capito !

" Pray present me," he says, after he has greeted
his sister, and Stella also, turning towards the
Baroness.

" And you already know my new star ?" Therfese
exclaims, in surprise, after she has fulfilled his re-
quest.

The Prince looks full at Stella, with a look
peculiar to himself, — a look in which admiration
reaches the boundarj' of impertinence without cross-
ing it, — then says, smiling, —

" Ch, Sasa !" when he is in a good humour he
calls his sister thus, by the name which he gave
her when he was a lisping baby in the nursery, —
" gh, Sasa, do you really suppose that I would have
rushed back from Lyons simply on the strength of

19*

222 ERLACH COURT.

the enthusiastic description of your latest trouvaille
that you sent me in your note of invitation ? ISo,
my little sister, I am too well aware of your liability
to acute attacks of enthusiasm not to receive your
hrilliant perorations with a justifiable mistrust. I
once had the pleasure of seeing Mademoiselle very
often, for a while," he continues, speaking French.

« Where ?— when ?" asks Ther^se.

" Three years ago, in Venice. Baron Meineck
lived at the Britannia, where I also lodged, and
Eraulein Stella came to Venice to take care of him.
— They were sad days for you," he says, turning to
Stella, very gravely, and with a degree of cordiality
which he can impart to his voice when he chooses.

" And yet they were delightful days for me in
spite of all," Stella replies, her eyes full of tears,
and turning away her head.

" Most certainly you can look back to that time
with a contented heart," he continues, in the same
sympathetic tone. " I never have seen a daugh-
ter " Suddenly he notices how the Baroness's

glance rests upon him, and, becoming aware of the
delicate nature of the situation, he finishes his sen-
tence as best he can and tries to change the subject.
But the Baroness has lost her equanimity: it is
always intensely painful to her to know that she
recalls to strangers the fact that her husband in
his last illness was obliged to forego her care;
Capito's words are like a reproof to her.

PRINCE ZINO CAPITO. 223

"Will you have the kindness to have a fiacre
called for us ?" she says, turning to the host.

Resisting all entreaties to prolong her stay, and
to take another cup of tea, she pleads fatigue, the
necessity of rising early, and so forth. When Capito
takes leave of her he asks permission to pay his
respects to the ladies.

But the Baroness begs him to give himself no fur-
ther trouble with regard to them, as she is scarcely
ever at home, — ^whereupon she vanishes on the arm
of the host, and the Prince twirls his moustache
with a comical grimace.

"What annoys you, Zino?" Edmund asks on his
return to the smoking-room ; and when the Prince
enlightens him as to the extent of his lack of tact,
and the unfortunate family history of the Meinecks,
he says, —

" I really do not see why Edgar considered it
necessary to prepare us so carefully for the absurd-
ities of the old Baroness. It is quite possible that
she drove her husband distracted with her learn-
ing: nevertheless in ordinary intercourse she is
very agreeable, and a very handsome old lady:
she must have been handsomer in her time than
her daughter."

" Do you think so ?" asks Ther^se. " To me
Stella seems charming."

" Elle est tout Mtement adorable" says Zino Capito,
drinking his tea out of the Japanese cup his sister

224 ERLACH COURT.

has just handed him. " How good your tea is,
Sasa! in all Paris no one has such good tea as
yours."

"You are very suspiciously complimentary,"
Ther^se rejoins. " "What do you want me to do
for you ?"

" Ask me to dine soon, and ask the Meinecks,"
Zino replies, with his attractively audacious smile.

" 'So, I will not," Theresa says, resolutely.

"And why not?"

" Because, as I now see, you would do all that
you could to turn Stella's hrain. I thought you
had outgrown such foolish tricks."

" Hm !" says Capito.

" I am going to do all that I can to marry her
well," Ther^se declares.

" Hm !" Capito says again, hut in a different tone.

" If you like, I will invite you to meet the Gur-
lichingen; she is in Paris at present."

" Indeed ! With whom is she travelling?

"With " Ther^se looks full at him, with

mirth in her eyes, — " with the Oblonsky !"

" Ah ! Have her lungs become affected lately ?"
Zino asks, indifferently.

" ITot that I know of; but she probably covets
respectability," says Ther^se.

" Ah, Hens ! cela doit tire drdle. An entire change
of system on Stasy's part, then," says Zino, put-
ting down his teacup, and rising.

PRINCE ZINO CAPITO. 225

" She seems to have abandoned the lucrative
calling of a turkey-buzzard," Eohritz remarks.

" Yes, and instead to have opened a laundry for
the purification of — caps which have fallen among
— among nettles, in the vicinity of mills.* Not a
bad trade, — hm !"

" Going already, Zino ?"

" Of course," says Zino, stretching himself and
yawning as spoiled brothers allow themselves to do
in presence of their sisters. "If you suppose I
tore myself away from Lyorts to drink tea with you,
you are mistaken. Be good, Sasa: when will you
invite the Meinecks and myself to dine ?"

Ther^se, moving her forefinger to and fro before
her face, makes the Roman gesture of refusal.

" Oh, very well ; as you please," Zino mutters in
an ill-humour. "Good-evening." "I wonder where
I could meet her," he says, musingly, before
lighting his cigar in the coupfe that awaits him.

" Strange !" Eohritz remarks to his wife ; " Ed-
gar described the young Meineck to me as particu-
larly gay and amusing."

" Indeed ?"

" Now, for so young a creature, she seems to me
particularly quiet."

" What would you have ? Punchinello himself
would grow melancholy with such a life as hers."

* A play upon the French proverb, ' jeter son bonnet par-
dessua le moulin,' as much as to say ' to lose one's reputation.'
P

226 ERLACH COURT.

Her husband reflects for a few moments. After
a while he says, " I wonder whether, after all, she
was not a little smitten with Edgar ?"

" Upon what do you base your conjecture ?"
Th^r^se asks, in astonishment.

" She put on so extraordinarily indifferent an
expression whenever he was mentioned."

Ther^se laughs aloud.

" What is there to laugh at ?" her husband asks,
rather crossly. J

" Forgive me, but you remind me of the French-
man who proposed to a young lady through her
mother, and when he was asked by her what reason
he had to suppose that her daughter liked him,
replied, 'I am quite sure of it, for she always
leaves the room as soon as I enter it.' "

" Laugh away ; we shall soon see who is right.
Moreover, Edgar must take some interest in her,
or he would not have recommended her to us so
warmly," replies Rohritz.

" Bah I he recommended her to us at the express
request of our common friend Leskjewitsch," his
wife rejoins.

"True; but "

" She is a child in comparison with him. He
might be her father."

Edmund is silent for a while, and then says,
"That is true; she is a child, — and he is very
sensible."

A MUSIC-LESSON. 227

CHAPTER XXIV.

A MUSIC-LESSON.

Following tlie advice of the little Italian con-
ductor of the orchestra, Stella refers to him in or-
der to procure more reasonable terms from Signer
della Seggiola for her singing-lessons.

These ' more reasonable terms' are twenty-five
francs for an hour abbreviated at both ends, and
sixty francs a month for a share in the singing-
class, — ^that is, in the musical dissertations which
Signor della Seggiola holds three times a week for
six or seven pupils in a small room in the Gerard
piano-building.

For the sake of those who consider twenty-five
francs an hour a tolerably high price for lessons,
and who are inclined to regard the leader's recom-
mendation as a humbug, it may be well to state
that twenty-five francs is really a lowered price,
and that dilettanti usually pay from thirty to thirty-
five francs for a private lesson from della Seggiola.

It is with the maestro's wife that Stella makes
the business arrangement, since della Seggiola him-
self — an artist, an idealist, a child — understands
nothing about money. He evidently labours under
the delusion that he gives the lessons for nothing,

228 ERLACH COURT.

since he does not take the slightest pains to give
his scholars an honest equivalent in valuable in-
struction for their twenty-five, thirty, or thirty-five
francs.

As we already know, Stella is tolerably fa-
miliar with the singing-teachers of many lands : she
knows that,, as is the case also with dentists, they
all abuse one another and testify the same horror at
the misdeeds of their predecessors, declaring with
the same tragic shake of the head that it will be
necessary to begin with the A, B, C, — that is, with
Concone's solfeggi, — and that it is indispensable for
the scholar that she should procure the work upon
the art of singing with which the new teacher, as
well as his predecessor, has enriched musical lit-
erature. Stella already possesses five exhaustive
works upon the 'Bel Canto,' ' L'Art lyrique,' 'LArt
du Chant,' and so forth ; each cost twenty francs
and contains a more or less valuable collection of
solfeggi. Some of these volumes are adorned with
the portrait of the author, others have prefaces in
which some famous man, such as Rossini, for ex-
ample, recommends the work to the public as
something extraordinary, something destined by its
intrinsic merit to outlast the Pyramids.

Delia Seggiola's work differs from all these
clumsy compositions. Adorned neither with the
portrait of the author nor with a preface by a de-
lebrity, it displays upon its first page the profile of

A MUSIC-LESSON. 229

a liuman being cut in half, — an imposing proof of
the maestro's anatomical knowledge, as well as of
his close study of the physical conditions of a true
training of the voice.

The large and magnificently-bound volume con-
tains no series of solfeggi, but simply some scanty,
musically impossible fiorituri, or musical examples
borrowed from other works, which swim like little
islands in an ocean of text. As Signora della
Seggiola expresses herself, her husband's volume is
no compilation of senseless solfeggi, but a Bible for
the lovers of song. ^

A Bible for those who believe in della Seggiola's
infallibility.

At the private lessons — ^the maestro gives these,
of course, only at his own home — the accompani-
ments are played by an ambitious young musician
who has once been with Strakosch on a tour ; in
the class, Fraulein Fuhrwesen accompanies, her
impresario having postponed for the present the
concert tour iu South America.

Della Seggiola never touches the piano himself.
He is a broad-shouldered, jolly Italian, with a big,
kindly, smiling face, and a black velvet cap.

Without ever having possessed even a tolerably
good voice, he ranked for a time among the dis-
tinguished singers of the world. His fine singing
is, however, of little use to his pupils.

He passes the time of the lessons chiefly in read-
20

230 ERLACH COURT.

ing aloud chapters from his 'Bible,' while the
accompanist, with unflagging enthusiasm, praises
the wisdom of the work; then the pupil sings some
trifle, della Seggiola meanwhile gazing at her with
a solemn air, sometimes grimacing to show the
position of the lips, or tapping alternately her
throat and her chest, exclaiming, " Ne serrez pas !"
or " Soufenez ! soutenez !" Then he directs the pupil
to rest, tells something funny, clicks with his
tongue, throws his velvet cap into the air, and —
kling-a-ling-ling — Signora della Seggiola gives the
signal that the lesson is over.

The class is a rather more serious and artistic
affair than the private lessons, from the fact that
there are no different prices to be paid here, but
that every one — with the exception of a protegi of
Signora della Seggiola's, a barytone from Florence,
who pays nothing — pays as in an omnibus the same
sixty francs a month, whether the class consist of
thirty or only three persons.

And the company reminds one somewhat of an
omnibus. Against the background of usual shab-
biness one or two brilliant social stars stand forth,
making one wonder how they came there. It
can hardly be asserted that even here among tne
disciples of della Seggiola, the only true prophet
of his art, any great progress in singing is made.
During the six weeks for which Stella has now
belonged to the class it has been sinsfinff the same

A MUSIC-LESSON. 231

thing, only with less and less voice ; that is all the
difference.

Condemned by the formation of his throat,
which is extraordinarily ill adapted to song, to
spare the organ, della Seggiola never allows otie
of his faithful disciples to sing one natural, healthy
note, but condemns them also to a constant mezzo-
voce which cannot but contract the throat.

Thus artificially restrained, Stella's warm rich
voice diminishes with extraordinary rapidity.
"When she complains to the maestro that this is so,
he remarks that it is a very good sign, her great
fault being that she has too much voice, and only
when she has lost it entirely can the cultivation of
a really bel canto begin.

This astounding assertion gives Stella food for
reflection, and it occurs to her to-day as she sits
at the piano preparing for the class-lesson and
finds that two of her notes break as she sings the
scale.

"Della Seggiola ought to be pleased with my
progress," she says to herself, with some bitterness,
and her heart beats hard as the constantly-recur-
ring question arises in her mind, " If I should

really lose my voice ? But where is the use of

thinking of it ?" she answers herself, with a shrug.
The clock on the chimney-piece, the one with the
manchineel-tree, strikes a quarter of ten. " It is
high time to go," the girl says aloud. Slipping

232 ERLACH COURT.

on the still handsome sealskin jacket which her
father had given her five years before for a Christ-
mas-present, she hurries along the various thronged
streets, broad and narrow, through the pale-yellow
January sunshine, to her destination.

The ' hall' in the Gerard piano-warehouse, Rue
du Mail, where della Seggiola holds his classes, is
hardly more spacious than an ordinary room in Ber-
lin or Vienna, and, being partly filled with pianos
sewed up in linen, leaves something to be desired
from an acoustic point of view. The lesson has
already begun when Stella enters. Fraulein Fuhr-
wesen, in her tassel-bedecked water-proof, is seated
at the piano, upon the lid of which the 'Bible'
lies open. Della Seggiola, resting his right hand
upon its pages, and gesticulating with his left, is
delivering an inspiring discourse upon the art of
song, while a tall, sallow young man, with very little
hair upon his head, but all the more upon his face,
is awaiting with ill-disguised impatience the mo-
ment when he can burst into song.

This young man's name is Meyer (pronounced
Meyare) : he is clerk in a banking-house, and is
studying for the stage.

A second barytone, a young Italian, is also wait-
ing with longing for his turn. He is the star of
the class, a Florentine, who has wandered to Paris
with his two sisters, who regularly come to the class
with him. They are sallow and elderly, wear very

A MUSIC-LESSON. 233

large Rembrandt hats, which, as they privately in-
form Stella, they purchased in the Temple, sit on
each side of their brother, and keep up a constant
nod of encouragement.

In strict seclusion from the young men, and
guarded by a gray-haired duenna, across whose
threadbare brown sacque she gaily ogles the bary-
tone from Florence, sits a dishevelled little soprano,
the daughter of a diva and a journalist.

Of course she has no idea of going on the stage ;
she speaks with horror of the theatre, and thinks a
dramatic career not at all comme il faut.

An elderly Englishwoman, quite copper-coloured,
with very long teeth and the figure of a tallow dip,
seems to be of a different opinion. She is just
confessing in very problematical French to the
barytone from Florence how much she repents not
having voice enough '■pour remplir un opera,' and
her eyes fill with tears.

Natalie Lipinski has not yet arrived.

With a pleasant greeting to the two sisters of
the barytone, and to the crazy Miss Frazer, Stella
passes as quietly as possible to her place.

After della Seggiola has ended his discourse,
and Monsieur Meyare has finished his ' Dolcessi
perduti,' Miss Frazer sings the waltz from ' Tra-
viata' transposed a fifth lower than the original key,
breathing very loud, and singing very low. In
the middle of it she stops short, lays her red hand,
20*

234 ERLAGH COURT.

covered to the knuckles with a knitted wristlet,
upon her heart, and sighs.

" "What is it?" asks della Seggiola, not without
a certain impatience. " "What is the matter ?"

" This aria is so deeply affecting," sighs the Eng-
lishwoman ; " it always gives me palpitation of the
heart."

" That is very unfortunate," says della Seggiola,
taking a pinch of snuff. " Pray consult a physi-
cian ; he will prescribe digitalis."

" Oh, the doctor could not help me," Miss Frazer
asserts, wagging her head to and fro with enthu-
siasm. " My nervous system is too highly strung. .
If my voice were only stronger I should certainly
have a succh upon the stage, — parce que je suis
trhs-jpassionnie. ' '

Della Seggiola bites his lip. At this moment the
door opens, l^atalie Lipinski enters, and behind her
— Stella can hardly believe her eyes — Zino Capito !

" Permit me to present to you my cousin, Prince
Capito, Signor della Seggiola," says ITatalie, in
her fluent but hard-sounding Russian-French.
" He hopes to be allowed to profit by your instruc-
tions."

Of course the lesson is interrupted. Miss Fra-
zer's eyes, which always remind one more or less of
a melancholy-minded rabbit, and which now wear
a very sympathetic air, rest with benevolence upon
the Prince, who offers della Seggiola his hand with

A MUSIC-LESSON. 235

the aplomb for which he is justly celebrated
throughout Europe, hurriedly thanks hira for the
great pleasure he has given him by his art, and
prays beforehand for indulgence and patience, since
he is, as he maintains, a beginner, — only a beginner.

Natalie conscientiously presents him to the class,
blundering, of course, with all the names.

He bows stiffly, looks directly over the gentle-
men's heads, scans the ladies with a curious glance,
and then goes directlj^ to Stella, beside whom he
takes his place, after bowing to her with the m.ost
attractive mixture of courtesy and deference. "With-
out being deterred by Miss Frazer's starting off
with her transposed song and getting through as
much of it as asthma and palpitation of the heart
will permit, he begins :

"I made an attempt to see you the day after
meeting you at my sister's, but, unfortunately, in
vain. Did you get my card ?"

"Yes."

"I was so very sorry not to find the ladies at
home. Might I be admitted some evening ?"

" I will ask mamma; but "

"And how have you amused yourself mean-
while ?"

" Oh, I have been very gay this week ; Madame
de Rohritz took me with hec once to the theatre
and once to the Bois de Boulogne."

" And when Ther^se does not take you out a

236 ERLACH COURT.

little do you devote your entire time to historical
studies and to your singing?"

" Sometimes I sit about in the Tuileries, — I have
made the acquaintance of an old governess, who
chaperons me, — and sometimes I go to the Louvre,
which I know as perfectly as ever a guide in Paris."

Is it by mere chance that just at this point of the
conversation, which is carried on in an undertone,
Fraulein Fuhrwesen turns and stares at the Prince
and Stella?

Meanwhile, it is Natalie's turn to sing. Her
song is the grand cavatina from ' I Paritani,' ' Qui
la voce sua soave !'

'Natalie is an odd little person, short, slender,
undeveloped as to figure, with a face rather too
sallow, but with regular delicate features and daz-
zling teeth. "With a fanatical enthusiasm for art
and a determination to go upon the stage she com-
bines a fortune of some millions of roubles, and,
what is in still more comical contrast with her
proposed career, a strict unbending sense of pro-
priety, far transcending the prudery of the most
English of Englishwomen, — not that shy sense of
propriety which is always on the defensive, but that
which is quick to look down with aggressive con-
tempt upon any infringement of the rules of
decorum.

Too well bred to speak when a lady whom he
knows, were she a hundred times his cousin, is sing-

A MUSIC-LESSON. 237

ing, Zino listens with exemplary attention to the
Bellini cavatina, not indeed without a merry
twinkle of the eye now and then.

Natalie's voice is rather shrill, her Italian accent
harsh; her rendering of the impassioned aria is
strictly confined to following the musical directions,
p.p., cresc, ritard., and so forth; even at the point
where the inspiration of the love-stricken Elvira
culminates in the words ' Vien' ii posa — vien' ii posa
sul mio cor!' she never ceases to heat the time
with her right hand.

After this brilliant outburst della Seggiola inter-
rupts her. The Euhrwesen lifts her hands from the
keys, and I^atalie looks inquiringly at the maestro,
who takes a pinch of snuff and shakes his head.

" Trh-bim, mon enfant," — it is needless to say that
this familiar address is very little to the taste of
the haughty Russian, — " irh-bien, mon enfant; you
sing in excellent time, but you must try to infuse
animation into your style. Eancy the situation, —
half crazy with love and longing, you are calling
out into the night, ' Ah, come — come to my heart !'
You must sing that with — how shall I express it ? —
with more conviction, thus :"

The.Fuhrweseu drums the accompaniment, and
della Seggiola, stretching out his arms like angels'
wings, throws back his head a little, and warbles,
' Qui la voce !'

Estimate as you please his method of instruction.

238 ERLACB COURX-

all who still find delight in the old Italian tradi-
tions must admit his art in singing.

And Prince Zinc — a musical Epicurean to his
finger-tips, rejecting everything clumsy and indi-
gestible in music, — Prince Zino, for whom Mozart
is the only god of music and Eossiui is his
prophet — strokes his moustache, delighted, and
calls " Bravo !" and della Seggiola bows.

The lesson continues to be quite interesting.

Signor Trevisiani, the barytone from Florence,
sings something very depressing, with the refrain, —

' Maladetto sulla terra,
Condannato nel ceil sard.'

The little soprano sings, ' Plaisir d'amour,' and Zino
perfectly, gravely, goes through a scale, swelling
the notes, during which two sad facts are brought
to light, — first, that he is the third barytone in the
class, — della Seggiola had hoped for a tenor, — and,
secondl}', that he cannot read by note. Della Seg-
giola, however, praises the charming timbre of his
voice, and asks if he may not send him a teacher
to correct his defective reading ; whereupon Frau-
lein Fuhrwesen declares herself ready to give the
Prince lessons. He pretends not to hear this
heroic proposition, seeming not even to perceive
her; whereby he makes a mortal enemy of that
extremely sensitive and irritable person.
The glory of the class is the closing performance,

A MUSIC-LESSON. 239

— the famous duet between Don Giovanni and Zcr-
lina, rendered by Signor Trevisiani and Ifatalie
Lipinski.

It would be difficult to imagine a more lugubri-
ous Don Giovanni than the young man from Flor-
ence. He is freshly shaven, perhaps in honour of
his part ; his cheeks are covered with red scratches,
like those of a German youth who bears about in
his face the record of his bravery ; his hair, artis-
tically dishevelled about his forehead and ears, falls
over his coat-collar at the back of his neck. Ex-
cept for a grass-green cravat, he is dressed entirely
in black, like the page in 'Marlbrook;' his cos-
tume, evidently provincial, comes from the same
quarter of Paris that has produced his sisters'
hats, — the Temple.

Much intimidated by his haughty Zerlina, his
throat contracts so that his voice, naturally fine and
resonant, comes from his dry lips hoarse and mis-
erably thready. Although Ifatalie sings, as ever,
in faultless time, the notes that should be in
unison are far from sounding so, whereupon della
Seggiola advises the singers to take each other's
hands. Mademoiselle Lipinski edges away still
farther from her Don Giovanni, and extends to him
her finger-tips.

Della Seggiola makes them repeat the duo three
times, does his best to make it go smoothly, gently
entreats Zerlina to be more coquettish, orders Don

240 ERLACS COURT.

Giovanni to be more seductive. In vain. Zerlina
draws down the corners of her mouth and looks at
the wall ; Don Giovanni scratches his ear. The duo
sounds worse and worse. Much irritated at this
melancholy result, which she ascribes entirely to
Signor Trevisiani's awkwardness, Nata-lie at last
says crossly to the young Florentine, " I beg you
not to torment me any more : it will never do !"
Then across her shoulder to her cousin she ex-
plains, impatiently, " Zino, Signor Trevisiani is
hoarse ; you and I used to sing the duo together.
Come, try it."

" If there is time," Zino says, with amiable readi-
ness, taking his place beside his cousin.

There is really no time for it, as della Seggiola
would have informed any one save the Prince.
Twelve o'clock has struck, but he does not men-
tion that fact to Zino. Hungry and resigned, he
sits down beside the piano, his hands clasped upon
his stomach, his eyes fixed upon the tips of his
boots stretched out before him, prepared to endure
the blessed duo for the fourth time. But what is
this ? He listens eagerly, all present listen, all eyes
are riveted upon the Prince, from whose lips there
flows such melody as we expect only from the
greatest Italian singers.

Without paying any further attention to Zerlina,
della Seggiola inquires at the close of the duo, —

" Do you sing the serenade also ?"

A MUSIC-LESSON. 241

" A pm frh" says Ziao, whereupon the Fuhr-
wesBQ strikes the first notes of the accompaniment,
and he sings it.

The singers of the new high-art school, the in-
terpreters of Wagner, curse out the notes at their
auditors ; Prince Zino smiles them at his hearers,
and the strong infusion of irony in his smile only
heightens the efiect of his style.

Erect but unstudied in attitude, his hands in the
pockets of his jacket, his head slightly thrown
back, he is the veritable personification of the gay,
thoughtless bon-vivant, Mozart's Don Giovanni as
the master created him.

As he ends, Miss Frazer, bathed in tears, rushes
up to him with both hands held out, exclaiming,
'■'■ Merci! merci!"

Stella, laughing, claps applause, and Signor
Trevisiani gazes at him as if he longed to learn
his art. But della Seggiola asks, —

" "Where did you learn to sing, mon Prince ?"

" Everywhere."

" From whom ?"

" From no one."

" That's right !" exclaims Seggiola, forgetting
all humbug in genuine artistic enthusiasm. " For,
between ourselves be it said, singing is never
taught."

And when the Prince laughs, and hopes on the
contrary to profit much from the art of the maes-
L J 21

242 ERLACH COURT.

tro, the latter replies, with the inborn courtesy of
his nation, —

" If you will kindly help me to reveal to my
class here the beauty of song, you shall always be.
welcome, mon Prince. I can teach you nothing."

The lesson is over. Zino helps Stella and his
cousin to put on their wraps, takes leave of della
Seggiola with his brilliant smile and cordial press-
ure of the hand, of the rest with a very brief nod,
and leaves the room with his two special ladies.

"A charming man, that Principe Capito," says
della Seggiola, rubbing his hands delightedly.
" And he can sing like Mario in his best days.
I used to give his sister lessons."

" I have met him before in Vienna," Fraulein
Fuhrwesen mutters. " He is jan Italian, to be sure,
but his arrogance he learned in Austria."

CHAPTER XXV.

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE ?

The lesson at an end, the members of della
Seggiola's class have no more acquaintance with
one another than have people who have travelled
together by railway after they have left the train.
The soprano with her slovenly duenna in a long

A NEW ACqUAINTANCE? 243

French cachemire shawl, the Italian with his two
sisters, one on each arm, all fly apart like bits of
lead from an exploding shell.

A saucy smile about his mouth, Capito walks
beside the two girls ; he softly hums to himself
' La ci darem la mano /'

" You sang well, Zino," Ifatalie remarks, after
a while. " Delia Seggiola was absolutely enthusi-
astic."

" "What good did it do me ?" says Zino, shrugging
his shoulders. " It gave him a reason for politely
turning me away."

" He was afraid you might agitate Miss Frazer :
she suffers already from her heart," Stella says,
with her usual audacity in alluding to uncomfortable
topics.

" On the whole, della Seggiola was right," N'atalie
declares : " it would not have been becoming for
you to join the class."

" 'Tis odd how often the pleasantest things in
this world are unbecoming," Zino mufmurs.

" Do you really think it would have been so very
pleasant to hear us practising away at the same
things twice a week ?" Stella asks, gaily.

Without giving him time to reply, Natalie begins
to cross-examine him upon his impressions of della
Seggiola's method of instruction.

" What do you think of him as a teacher ?" she
asks.

244 ERLAGH COURT.

" He sings delightfully," Zino replies, somewliat
vaguely.

" Yea, but he is too lax as a teacher ; he is not
strict enough, — does not suit to their capacity the
tasks he imposes upon his pupils."

"Do you think so?" says Zino. "On the con-
trary, I thought he exacted far too much of his
scholars' capacity."

" How so ?" ISTatalie asks, rather offended,

" He required you to be coquettish, and that
fellow — ^what was his name ? — Trappenti — to be se-
ductive. Eather too difficult a task for both of
you, I should think," says the Prince.

Natalie frowns :

" I thought della Seggiola's remarks to-day
highly unbecoming."

" Of course, when you were singing a love-song,
to require you to imagine yourself in the place of
the singer, — c'est de la demihe inconvenance. More-
over, it was exacting more than you were capable
of performing, — that is, so far as I know." And,
with a quick turn of the conversation which would
be quite inexcusable in any one else, he looks her
in the face, and asks with a light laugh, as if the
question concerned something infinitely comical,
" Do tell us, — it will interest Baroness Stella too,
I am sure, — you are twenty-five years old "

" Twenty-six," ISTatalie corrects him.

" Twenty-six, then. "Were you ever in love ?"

A NEW ACqUAINTANCE? 245

To the Prince's no small surprise, ^Natalie turns
away her head at this question, and, blushing to
the very roots of her hair, mutters angrily between
her set teeth, "You are intolerable to-day !"

"Ah, indeed!" says Prince Zino, with a merry
twinkle of his eyes. " It must be with one of the
lithographic portraits hanging in the corridor in
your home at Jekaterinovskoe, — Orlow, or Potem-
kin. By the way, 'tis a great pity you blush so
seldom, Natalie : it becomes you charmingly."

At the next street-corner Stella's and N^atalie's
ways separate, to the great vexation of the Prince,
seeing that he too must of course take his leave
of the beautiful Austrian. But, if he can no
longer enjoy the pleasure of talking with Stella,
he resolves to please himself by still keeping her
in sight. Instead of remaining with his cousin
and quietly going his own way, he decides to walk
along the same street with Stella, on the other side
of the way.

Natalie, who understands his little manoeuvre
perfectly, looks after him before turning her
corner, and shakes her head. " I wonder how
many times he has been in love before ?" she
thinks. " Poor little star ! she is very pretty. I
trust she may be more sensible than I."

Meanwhile, Zino and Stella walk leisurely along
on opposite sides of the Rue des Petits- Champs.

" How well she walks ! what a fine carriage she
21*

246 ERLAGH COURT.

has !" he murmurs, never losing sight of her. " Her
movements have such an easy grace, and now and
then a dreamy, gliding rhythm about them; 'tis
music for the eyes. And then such colour, — the
fair face with its black eyes and red lips, the gold
of the hair setting off the exquisite glow of the
complexion, — she is enchanting !"

Zino is one of those men whose sensuality is re-
fined and idealized by the admixture of a purely
artistic and aesthetic appreciation of the beautiful.
The worship of the beautiful is, as he is fond of
declaring, his own special, private religion; the
paroxysms of enthusiasm which this worship was
apt to cause in him in former years have long since
grown rarer and rarer. But to-day he is distinctly
conscious of the slow approach of an attack.

" Bah ! it will pass away," he says to himself,
" as all such attacks do ; it can lead to nothing.
But all the same she is bewitching !"

Thus both go their ways, — he with his eyes,
quite intoxicated with beauty, riveted upon her
face and figure, — she, as he is rather annoyed to
perceive, so absorbed in her own thoughts as to be
utterly oblivious of his vicinity. Between them,
around them, swarms Parisian life, with its bustle
and noise; on the pavements pass neat grisettes
by twos and threes, their smooth hair uncovered,
either coming from or going to breakfast, men
with dirty grayish-white blouses, servant-girls in

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE? 247

white caps, Englishwomen with long teeth, and
Parisians of all kinds, recklessly pressing on to-
wards some aim known to themselves only ; in the
middle of the street there is a hurly-burly of every
kind of vehicle, from little hand-carts, laden with
iish, flowers, oranges, or vegetables, and pushed by
women with bent backs, to omnibuses as big as
small houses, their tops reaching above the shop-
windows, and dragged with difficulty by the
strongest horses. Here and there some one is
running after one or other of these conveyances, a
breathless day-governess, helped up by both hands
to the back platform by the conductor, or a notary
with a leather wallet under his arm, who climbs to
the top with the agility of a monkey.

These tops are crowded. Beside respectable
business-men with clean-shaved cheeks and thick
sausage-like moustaches are seated all sorts of Bo-
hemians, half-students, half-artists, pale and thin,
with melancholy eyes in faces weary with cheap
pleasures, a strange and genuinely Parisian species
of human being, always eager for any variety, be it
a ball at Bulliers or the overthrow of a govern-
ment, a restless, excitable, shallow, sparkling crowd,
which might be called the oxygen of Paris in con-
trast with its hydrogen. And beside the huge city
omnibus there toil, slowly, heavily-laden carts to
which are harnessed long trains of huge white
Norman steeds, with blue sheepskins upon their

248 ERLACH COURT.

backs and bells around their necks, bells which
have a rustic simple sound amid all the demoniac
clatter of Paris, like the clear voices of children
heard in some Bacchanalian revel. Tall, sturdy
Normans in white, flapping broad-brimmed hats
walk beside them, shaking their heads as they look
down upon the wealthy degradation and the sordid
misery of the filigree population of Paris.

The January sun shines above it all. There in
the fresh cold air is an odour of oranges, fish, and
flowers. Stella stops beside a flower-cart to buy a
bunch of violets. Zino pauses to watch her.
Amid the noise of the street he cannot under-
stand what she says, but through the roar of the
mid-day crowd, the loud pulsation of the great
city stronger at this hour than at any other, he
distinguishes brief detached notes of her gentle
bird-like voice. How cordial the smile she has
just bestowed upon the flower-girl !

" If she smiled at me like that I should give her
the entire cart-full of flowers. I w^onder if I might
send her a bouquet to the ' Negroes ? ' "

Stella, with a charming shake of the head, has
just taken out her purse, when a lumbering omni-
bus interposes between her and Zino's admiring
gaze. The omnibus is followed by a cart, then by
another, and another. At last the view is once
more uninterrupted; but where is Stella? There
she stands, pale, agitated, her eyes cast down, be-

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 249

side a tall, thin, consumptive-looking woman in
shabby black, leading by the hand a little girl, — a
woman with golden hair, and features in which,
pinched and worn though they be by many a
bitter experience, a striking likeness may be traced
to Stella's beautiful profile.

" Where did she pick up that acquaintance ?" the
Prince asks himself; but before he can decide
where and when he has seen that woman before,
Stella and the stranger have vanished in a little
confectioner's shop.

CHAPTER XXVI.

five-o'clock tea.

However recklessly a woman may have trifled
with her reputation in her youth, tossing it about
as a thing of naught, there is sure to come a time
in the progress of years when the first wrinkle ap-
pears, and instantly a careful search is made for
the lost article. Then she needs a friend who shall
smooth it out and polish it up and return it to her,
— a friend who believes in its inherent spotless-
ness and will do her best to convince others of the
same.

This office Stasy has undertaken to perform for

250 ERLACH COURT.

the Princess Oblonslcy. And what is to be her
reward for her eiForts? Delicious food, exquisite
lodgings and service in apartments fairy-like in
their appointments, numerous presents, and alto-
gether very considerate treatment, vpith the excep-
tion of a few outbreaks of temper, unavoidable with
such women as the Princess.

From all which it may be clearly perceived that
the position of the Oblonsky is far from being as
good as it was upon her husband's death, three
years ago, or she would scarcely covet at so high a
price the support of such a person as Anastasia.

She certainly has been most unfortunate, — poor
Princess Sophie. "When, three years ago, she re-
turned from Petersburg a widow and possessed of
a colossal fortune, she hoped to obliterate all memo-
ries of former irregularities by a marriage with
Prince Zino Capito. But Zino did not second her
views. Two months after the death of the Prince
he scarcely spoke to her.

It was during the following winter that Sophie
Oblonsky committed the serious ' imprudence' by
which she lost forever her social position. At
the roulette-table in San Carlo she made the ac-
quaintance of a young Hungarian who was pre-
sented to her as a Oomte de Bethenyi. He was
young, ardent, wore picturesque fur collars and
jackets which well became his handsome gypsy
face, flung his money about everywhere, and played

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 251

the piano. Sophie Oblonsky was always sensitive
to music. The picturesque Hungarian inspired
her with an interest such as none but a disappointed
woman of forty can experience. In dread of com-
promising herself, she consented to marry him, and
they were betrothed, whereupon suddenly various
Esterhazys and Zichys of her acquaintance ap-
peared at San Carlo, and in the casino of the place
met the Princess upon her lover's arm, bowed to
her, and honoured her companion with a very odd
stare. After they had passed, Sophie heard them
laugh.

In an hour all Monaco knew that the Princess
Oblonsky had betrothed herself to a fencing-master
from Klausenburg, who shortly before had won a
prize of ten thousand marks in the Saxon lottery.
That same evening Caspar Bethenyi risked his last
thousand francs on number twenty-nine, — perhaps
because the twenty-ninth of January was his birth-
day, — and lost. The following night he put a bullet
through his brains.

The correspondent of ' Figaro' wrote an amusing
article upon the episode, and the Princess Ob-
lonsky was henceforth impossible : she had made
herself ridiculous.

The world found the affair extremely comical, —
80 comical that there was a strong admixture of con-
tempt even in the compassion accorded to the poor
fencing-master, who had signed his name simply

252 ERLACH COURT.

Caspar Bethenyi in the strangers' book, and who,
it was afterwards discovered, had accepted rather
unwilUngly the rank bestowed upon him by waiters
and journahsts.

Since this had occurred, two years before, the
Oblonsky had tried in vain to regain a footing in
society. Considerable surprise was expressed that
when thus exiled from the ' world' of western
Europe she did not retire to Petersburg ; but she
probably had her own reasons for not doing so.

Another woman in her place, with her immense
means, might have let go all she had lost and lived
gaily from day to day. But she was naturally
slow, and with the luxurious tendencies of her
temperament were mingled sentimentality and a
certain liability to sporadic attacks of a sense of
propriety. She grasped at everything that could
make her at one with the world.

She had set her heart upon a respectable mar-
riage, becoming her rank. In the far distance
Edgar von Eohritz hovered before her as the St.
George who was destined to slay for her the dragon
of prejudice.

Certain people, especially women, understand
how to touch up their reminiscences with the same
artistic skill that a photographer expends upon his
pictures, so that very little remains of the fact as
it was originally projected upon the memory.

Sophie Oblonsky erased, in this touching up of

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 253

her reminiscences, everything that she disliked.
She talked so much of her virtue that she finally
came to believe in it.

Meanwhile, she behaved with perfect propriety
and was fearfully bored.

It is five o'clock, and the heavy curtains before
the windows of her drawing-room are already
drawn close. The lamps shed a mild, agreeable
light. A lackey has just brought in the tea. Upon
a pretty Japanese stand, beside the silver samovar,
sparkle the glass decanters of cordial and all the
modern accompaniments of afternoon tea.

It is the Princess's reception-day.

That she entirely ignores in her intercourse with
Stasy her own loss of position, that she ascribes her
seclusion solely to a voluntary retirement from a
hollow world which disgusts her, there is as little
need of stying as that Stasy, without a word from
the Princess to induce her to do so, feels herself
under obligations to introduce Sophie to a new
social circle.

This ' circle' consists as yet but of a few wealthy
Americans, just arrived in Paris, and of — artists.

The Princess has a special liking for artists ;
they are, she maintains, so much fresher, so much
quicker and pleasanter as companions, than her
equals in rank, of whose wearisome shallowness
she has many a story to tell. And her special
favourite among these is the pianist Fuhrwesen.
22

254 ERLACH COURT.

Why, good heavens, the only occupation which
really interests the Princess at this time is the
search for some -private irregularity in the lives of
women of extreme apparent respectability ; and in
these investigations the pianist is always ready to
assist her.

Dressed with great taste but with severe sim-
plicity, holding a small Japanese hand-screen be-
tween her face and the glow from the fire, the
Princess is leaning back in a low chair near the
hearth, complaining of headache, and hoping that
there will not be as many people here to-day as on
her last reception -day.

A quarter of an hour — yes, half an hour — passes,
and no one appears. Stasy is hungry ; thefoiegras
sandwiches are very tempting, but to partake of
one would be a tacit admission that there is no
hope of a visitor, and she must not be the first to
confess the fact.

" Poor Boissy !" — this is a painter whom the Ob-
lonsky has taken under her protection, — " poor
Boissy ! probably he cannot summon up the courage
to come ; he is ashamed of his wife. Ah, he really
cannot dream how considerate I am for artists'
wives. It is a theory of mine that it is our duty,
as ladies, to educate artists' wives for their hus-
bands. I know it is not usual to receive them ;
but that seems to me very petty, and I hate all
pettiness."

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 255

Another quarter of an hour passes. Stasy is
faint with hunger.

" On,e of the Fanes must be ill," she observes,
" or they would certainly be here. I must find out
what " But Sophie interrupts her impatiently.

" Pour me out a cup of tea," she orders her.

The tea is cold and bitter from waiting so long
for guests who do not arrive. Sophie fi.nds it de-
testable, and reproaches Stasy therefor.

Stasy consoles herself for her friend's capricious
injustice by taking two glasses of cordial, three
sandwiches, and half a dozen little cakes.

Meanwhile, Sophie observes, with a yawn, " I
cannot tell you how glad I am that no one came.
People bore me so. I revel in my solitude. And
to think that I must shortly resign it ! I must call
upon our ambassadress shortly."

In spite of her wonderful degree of aplomb,
Anastasia at this point of the conversation is silent
and looks rather confused.

"You saw her in the Bois lately," the Oblonsky
continues, in a somewhat irritated tone.

" Yes ; you pointed her out to me."

" Well, you must have noticed how stiffly she
bowed. No wonder. She must have known how
long I have been in Paris without calling upon her."

" I have always told you that you carry to excess
your passion for solitude," Stasy chirps. " It is easy
to go too far in such a preference."

256 ERLACH COURT.

"Ah, the world is odious to me," Sophie de-
clares.

The bell outside is heard to ring at this moment.

" Insufferable !" Sonja exclaims. " I trust no
one is coming to disturb us now !" And, glancing
at the mirror over the chimney-piece, she adjusts
her jaboi and a curl above her forehead.

The lackey flings wide the folding doors and an-
nounces, " Mademoiselle Urwfese," — the French ab-
breviation, apparently, for Fuhrwesen; for, even
more copper-coloured than usual, in consequence
of the biting north wind outside, with her hair
blowing about her eyes, a kind of reddish-j^ellow
turban upon her head, and wearing her tassel-be-
decked water-proof, the pianist enters.

" How nice of you ! This is really charming,
my dear Fuhrwesen !" exclaims Sophie, hastily
concealing her disappointment. "' This is my day,
but I closed my doors for all strangers, — absolutely
for all," the imaginative Princess asseverates ; then,
pausing suddenly, she glances uneasily at Stasy.
But Stasy has long since learned to let such rhap-
sodies pass her by without so much as the quiver
of an eyelash : her face is motionless, and the Ob-
lonsky goes on fluently : " You were the only one
whom Baptiste had orders to admit. Take off your
wraps : you will stay and dine, of course, dear, will
you not ?"

" With your kind permission," Fraulein Fuhr-

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 257

wesen says, submissively, kissing the Oblonsky's
hand.

" And now sit here by the fire and warm yourself.
Anastasia," — this is drawled over her shoulder, —
" pour out a glass of cordial for her. — ^Tou can have
nothing more, my dcai; ; I cannot permit you to
spoil your appetite. "We are going to have an ex-
tremely fine dinner."

" Your Highness is really too kind," says the
pianist. " Ah, how intensely becoming that green
gown is to you ! Did you hear Prince Olary's de-
scription of you? — 'The Venus of Mil o, dressed
by Worth.' Was it not capital ?" And the pianist
gazes at the Oblonsky with enthusiastic admira-
tion.

" Yes, yes, you are in love with me, my dear :
'tis an old story," the Princess says, with a laugh.
" But now tell us something new : you always
have a budget of news. Any fresh scandal in the
Faubourg?"

" Let me think," Fraulein Puhrwesen says, re-
flectively. " What news have I heard ? X propos
— ^yes, I remember ; but it will shock your High-
ness terribly. I really had no idea of such deprav-
ity in girls of what is called the best standing."

" 01^ tell us, tell us !" the Princess urges her.

" I must first be sure that I shall not wound
Fraulein Anastasia," the pianist remarks, discreetly.
" Are you not in some way related, or a very near
r 22*

258 ERLAOH COURT.

friend, to the little Meineck, Fraulein von Gur-
lichiugen ?"

" !N"ot at all," Anastasia assures her. " I spent a
couple of weeks in the same house with her last
summer, but I had very little to say to her. I
never liked her."

" Meineck ? Meineck ?" says the Oblonsky, with
lifted eyebrows. " Is not she the young person
who you told me fell so desperately in love with
Rohritz V

Anastasia nods.

" The young lady apparently possesses an inflam-
mable heart," Fraulein Fuhrwesen remarks, con-
temptuously : " it already throbs for another, — for
Prince Lorenzino Capito."

The Princess becomes absorbed in contempla-
tion of her nails; Anastasia observes, " That would
seem to be rather an aimless enthusiasm. Pray how
did you learn anything about this affair ?"

Fraulein Fuhrwesen draws a deep breath : " You
know I play the accompaniments at della Seg-
giola's class. Stella Meineck has attended it for
two months. The company is rather mixed, es-
pecially so far as the men are concerned. "Who
do you suppose made his appearance to join the
class the day before yesterday? It really .is too
ridiculous, — pretending to want to learn to sing !
Prince Lorenzo Capito."

"You don't say so!" Stasy ejaculates.

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 259

"Tes, Prince Capito," the narrator repeats.
" He stares past all the others, takes a seat beside
little Meineck, and talks with her during the entire
lesson. "What do you think of that, ladies ?"

Stasy sighs, and the Oblonsky says, —

" Oesi him extraordinaire ! I certainly should not
have thought that so insignificant a person could
have inspired Capito with the sligtest interest."

" I know Prince Capito," the visitor goes on :
" I met him in Vienna at the Countess Thiersteiu's.
His reputation, so far as women are concerned, is
disgraceful. Any girl is good enough to help him
while away an hour or two."

" Yes, he is a terrible creature," the Princess
sighs. " I really had no idea of it. He used to be
a good deal at our house while my husband was
alive. Of course he never presumed with me."

" Gela va sans dire," exclaims Stasy.

"Of course, you know me: to friendly inter-
course — ^yes, I do not pretend to more reserve than
I possess — even to a slight flirtation with an inter-
esting man — I have no objection; but anything
beyond that absolutely passes my comprehension."

" The little Meineck, however," Fraijlein Fuhr-
wesen continues, with a malicious smile, " does not
appear to be so strict in her ideas. I distinctly
heard her during the singing-lesson arranging a
rendezvous in the Louvre with the Prince."

" A rendezvous ?" Sophie repeats, with horror.

260 ERLACH COURT.

" That is indeed And do you know whether

Capito kept the appointment ?"

" Certainly. I made sure of it," continues her
informant. " The morning after the singing-class
I had a lesson to give near the Louvre, and after it
was over I had a little time to spare. I am per-
fectly familiar with the museum, as I often go there
to visit an acquaintance of mine. I never look at
the pictures any more, they tire me to death, but the
Louvre is always a nice place to get warm. So I
mounted the staircase, and lingered for a while
beside the register in the Salle La Gaze, exchang-
ing a word or two with an Englishman who is
copying a E,ibera. Suddenly the man turned, as
every man turns to look after a pretty girl. I turned
also, and whom should I see but Mademoiselle
Stella, with her yellow hair and her sealskin jacket !
Please tell me, ladies, how a person so miserably
poor as she is — I know all about the Meinecks'
pecuniary circumstances, coming as I do from
Zalow — can buy a sealskin jacket, — and a beautiful
one ? Why, one has to save for three years to get
a respectable water-proof."

" Probably it was given to her," the Princess says,
with a shrug. " But go on."

" She went directly through the room, without
looking at the pictures, precisely like some one who
had come simply to meet some one else. I went
up to her, and, though I cannot endure the haughty

FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA. 261

creature, I spoke to her : ' Ah, Baronne, how are
you ?' She replied curtly, looking past me to the
right and left, and finally, observing that she could
not stay, for she had promised to meet some one, —
oh, a lady, of course! — walked quickly away. My
time was up. I looked after her, and was leaving,
when whom should I encounter in the Galerie
d'Apollon but Prince Capito ! I suppose any one
who knows of his devotion to art can readily im-
agine why he should be in the Louvre ! "What do
you say to such conduct ?"

"Absolutely depraved!" exclaims the Princess.

" "We all know whither these ' innocent meetings'
in the picture-galleries lead," the Fuhrwesen con-
tinues. " The next thing she will pay him a visit
in his lodgings."

" Oh, my dear !" the Oblonsky laughs aficctedly.

"Bah! I live opposite the Prince in the Eue
d'Anjou; I should not be at all surprised if I were

to see that young lady walk into 'So. some fine

day."

" If you do you must come and tell us instantly !"
exclaims the Princess, taking her visitor's hand.
" Oh, how cold you are ! Is it possible you are
not warm yet? Indeed, you are not sufficiently
clothed "

" My cloak is a little thin, but I cannot help
that. Tour Highness will readily understand that
I am not able to buy a sealskin jacket."

262 ERLACB COURT.

"You Anastasia, be kind enough to tell

Justine to bring down my two winter cloaks."

Anastasia obligingly brings the cloaks herself,
and the Princess requests Fraulein Fuhrwesen to
try them on. Although the little pianist is shorter
by almost a head and shoulders than the majestic
Princess, and consequently the garments trail behind
her like coronation-robes, the Oblonsky assures
her that they fit her as though they had been made
for her, and immediately bestows upon her one of
the two, a magnificent wrap of dark-green velvet,
trimmed with fur.

The pianist kisses both hands of the donor, and
kneels before her; the Princess says, laughing,
" Don't be absurd, my dear. You see that giving —
making others happy — is a passion with me. Stasy
has one of my cloaks, you have another, I keep
the simplest for myself. I have always lived for
others only."

CHAPTEE XXVII.

A CHANGE AT EKLACH COURT.

" There is something rotten in the state of Den-
mark," Edgar von Rohritz says to himself, looking
out of his window at Erlach Court upon the snow-
covered garden below.

A CHANGE AT ERLAGH COURT. 263

Six days ago lie arrived at the castle to spend
Christmas, as had been agreed upon. The Christ-
mas festivities are at an end. The children from
the three villages upon whom Katrine had showered
gifts have all, as well as Freddy, become accus-
tomed to their new possessions, but the giant
Christmas-tree, robbed, it is true, of its sugar-
plums, still stands with its candle-stumps and gilt
ornaments in the corridor, and from the brown
frames of the engravings in the dining-room a
few evergreen boughs are still hanging, remnants
of the Christmas decorations.

Rohritz has enjoyed celebrating the lovely festi-
val in the country, — everything was bright and
gay; but there is a change of atmosphere at Er-
lach Court; the social charm for which it used
to be renowned is lacking.

Edgar's reception both by husband and by wife
was most cordial : the captain is gay, talkative, —
almost gayer and more talkative than in summer ;
but there is a cloud on Katrine's brow.

Instead of the frank but thoroughly good-hu-
moured tone in which she was wont to deride the
captain's exaggerated outbreaks, she now passes
them by in silence. She never quarrels with him,
she is decidedly displeased with him, and — what
surprises E,ohritz more than all else — the captain
seems to care very little for her displeasure.

To-day Rohritz asked Katrine if it was quite

264 ERLACB. COURT.

decided that the captain was to leave the army and
retire once for all to the country. Whereupon
Katrine's fine eyes sparkle angrily, and with a
slight quiver of her delicate nostril she replies,
" So it seems. He will not listen to any suggestion
of resuming the hard duties of the service, but has
accustomed himself entirely to the lazy life of a
landed proprietor." And "when Rohritz remains
silent, she exclaims, angrily, " I know what you
are thinking : that I gave him no choice save to
resign his career or his domestic life, — which is
no choice at all with men of his stamp, whose
love of domesticity is very pronounced, and who
have no ambition ! But when I acted so I thought
he would lead a country life, without deteriorating ;
I thought he would occupy himself, — would devete
his energies to politics, to Slavonic agricultural
interests "

" Indeed ?" Rohritz asks. " Did you really ex-
pect that of Les ?"

" Yes," Katrine exclaims, " I did expect that
of Jack ; and I had a right to expect it, for he
lacks neither energy nor sense."

" He was always considered one of the keenest
and most gifted officers in the army," says Rohritz.

" And with justice," Katrine confirms his words.
" You have no idea of the energy with which he
devoted himself to the service. "Were you ever in
Hungary ?"

A CHANGE AT ERLACH COURT. 265

" Yes, madame, I served as captain for two years
in W ."

" Then you are familiar with the fearful heat of
the Hungarian summers. To order dinner and to
sit upright at table exhausted my capacity ; whilst
he, although he rose at four that he might got
through riding-school before the terrible heat of
the day, scarcely ever lay down for half an hour.
He continually had something to arrange, to decide,
to command; he occupied himself with the indi-
vidual concerns of every soldier in his squadron ;
he "never took a moment's rest from morning until
night; while now — now he does nothing, nothing
but sleigh, mend a toy for the boy now and then,
and read silly novels."

Rohritz is spared the necessity of replying, for
at this moment the quiet drawing-room where this
conversation is going on is invaded by the sharp
clear tinkle of large sleigh-bells. Katrine turns
her head hastily and walks to the window.

" So soon again !" she exclaims, as a fair, stout,
pretty woman, wrapped in furs, allows herself, with
much loud talking, to be helped out of the sleigh by
the captain. "Whilst Katrine, with a very gloomy
face, takes her seat in an arm-chair . to await the
stranger's appearance, Rohritz withdraws, under
the pretext of an obligation to answer immediately
an important letter.

But he writes no letter; he does not even sit

266 ERLAGS COURT.

down at his writing-desk, but stands at his window
looking out at the snow. In town he had quite
forgotten how pure and white snow originally is.
He gazes at it as at some curiosity which he is
beholding for the first time. On the rose-beds,
the bushes, the old linden, — everywhere it lies
thick, — thick !

Here and there some branch thrusts forth a black
point from the white covering, and the trunks of
the trees are all divided in halves, a black half
and a white one.

He reflects upon the domestic drama about to
be enacted close at hand.

He is sorry for Katrine, although he lays at her
door the blame for all the annoyances of which she
has spoken to him, petty, provoking annoyances,
which under certain circumstances may be the fore-
runners of actual misfortune.

" One more who has thrust aside happiness," he
murmurs, bitterly, adding on the instant, " If we
could only recognize our happiness at the right
time ! If it could only say to us, ' Here I am, —
clasp me close !' But the truest, finest happiness
is never self-asserting: it walks beside us mute
and modest, warming and rejoicing our hearts,
while we know not whence come the warmth and
the delight."

As the stout blonde whom Leskjewitsch helped

A CHANGE AT ERLACS COURT. 267

out of the sleigh not only remains to lunch, but
also takes afternoon tea and dinner at Erlach Court,
Eohritz has abundant opportunity to observe her.
That, like all sii-ens who disturb domestic serenity,
she should be inferior in every respect to the wife
whose peace of mind she threatens, was to have
been expected ; but that she should be so immeas-
urably inferior to Katrine, — for that Rohritz was
not prepared.

Anywhere else save in the country, and more-
over in a world-forgotten corner of Ukrania, where
the foxes bid one another good-night, and human
beings are consequently easier to be induced than
in civilized countries to bid one another good-day
in spite of stupid social prejudices, any intercourse
between this lady and the family at Erlach Court
would have been impossible.

The daughter of a lucifer-match manufacturer

in P , with a moderate degree of education

and a strong passion for hunting, three years ago
she had married the son of a riding-teacher, a cer-
tain Herr Euprecht, who had been first a cavalry-
officer, then a circus manager in America, and
finally a newspaper-man in Vienna. After these
various experiences with her promising husband,
they had shortly before taken up their abode in a
villa not far from Erlach Court, on the opposite
bank of the Save. As the husband spent most of
his time with a pretty actress, the young wife passed

268 ERLAGH COURT.

her days in dreary solitude. The country-people
called her the grass-widow.

" I need not assure you that I am not in tho least
jealous," Katrine remarks to Eohritz in the draw-
ing-room, while the grass-widow with Freddy and
the captain is playing billiards in the library, " but
I frankly confess that I find the pleasure which Jack
takes in the society of that common creature —
that fat goose — incomprehensible. It irritates me.
Moreover, she is ugly !"

Eohritz receives this outburst of Katrine's pre-
cisely as he receives all her outbursts, — in thought-
ful, courteous silence. Frau Ruprecht certainly is
common and silly ; ugly she is not. She has a daz-
zling complexion, a magnificent bust, and a regular
profile, although with lips that are too thick, a
double chin, and light eyelashes. She speaks in a
common, Viennese dialect, has never read a sensible
book in her life, uses perfumes in excess, and has
no taste whatever in dress.

But she drives like a Viennese hackman, she rides
like a jockey, and her knowledge of sporting-mat-
ters would do honour to a professional trainer. She
allows Leskjewitsch the utmost freedom of speech,
and is ready to laugh at his worst jokes.

She disgusts Edgar Eohritz quite as much as
she disgusts Katrine; nevertheless he understands
what there is about her to attract Leskjewitsch.

A PARIS LETTER. 269

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A PARIS LETTER.

A FEW days after the appearance at Erlach Court
of the grass-widow, the mail brings Eohritz a letter
with the Paris post-mark. Edgar recognizes his
sister-ill-law's hand, opens it not without haste, and
reads it not without interest. It runs thus :

" Ml Men, my dear Edgar, j'esphe que vous serez
content de mot" — Therese alwaj's writes to her
brother in a jargon of French, Italian, German,
and English, which, out of regard for the pedantry
of modern purists, we translate into as good Eng-
lish as we are able to command : " I hope you
will be pleased with me. I frankly confess to
you, what you probably guessed from my last
postal card, that your request to me to try to
brighten their life in Paris for two of your
countrywomen did not afford me much pleasure.
As a rule, compatriots so recommended are an
unmitigated bore, from the pianists whose three
hundred — no, that's too i&^ — five hundred tickets
we must dispose of, and who then, when you
ask them to a soiree, are too grand to plaj' the
smallest mazourka of Chopin, to the Baronesses
Wolnitzka, who request you to introduce them to
23*

270 ERLACH COURT.

Parisian society because they never have an oppor-
tunity to see any one at home. The pianists are
bad enough, but the "Wolnitzkas — oh ! In one re-
spect they are precisely alike : they are always of-
fended. If you invite them en famille they are
oiFended because they suppose you are ashamed of
them ; if you invite them to a ball they are offended
because you pay them no particular attention. The
upshot is that you always have to refuse them some-
thing, — to lend a thousand francs to the genius
when he already owes you five hundred, — to pro-
cure for the "Wolnitzkas an invitation to some ball
at the embassy; then ensues a quarrel, and they
draw down the corners of their mouths and look
the other way when they meet you in the street.

" Only at the repeated request of your brother,
who wherever anything Austrian is concerned is
the personification of self-sacrificing devotion, did
I make up my mind to call upon your acquaintance
at the ' Negroes.'

" The hotel is — very plain, but I believe very re-
spectable, — which is more than one has a right to
expect of just such furnished lodgings in Paris.
The staircase, a narrow crooked flight of steps
with slippery sloping stairs, creaked beneath my
feet ; I was afraid it would break down as I mounted
to the Meinecks' appartement. One final, depress-
ing, menacing memory of the "Wolnitzkas assailed
me. Justin rings, the door opens, and all my prej-

A PARIS LETTER. 271

udices vanish like snow before the sun. The
daughter alone was at home. I fell in love with
her on the instant, — so deeply in love that before I
left I called her Stella and kissed her cheek. She
is enchanting.

" It is not only that she is exquisitely beautiful ;
she combines the most innocent simplicity with the
greatest distinction, a combination never found ex-
cept in Austrian women. You see I know how to
value your countrywomen when they are really
worth it.

" Her face, her entire air, seemed created to
banish all sadness from her presence; and yet
there was a pathos in her look, in her smile, that
went to my heart. But she must be happy. I
mean to search for happiness for her ; and I shall
find it.

''Cfe que femme le veut, Dieu le veut! When I
do anything I do it thoroughly. What do you
think ? It took me three weeks to resolve to call
upon the Meinecks. I invited them to dine without
waiting for them to return my visit. You know
my way. We passed a charming evening together,
strictly informal, to become acquainted with one
another. The mother was as little eccentric as is
possible for a blue-stocking to be, and in the course
of four hours had only two attacks of absence of
mind, which does her honour. What a handsome
face ! Edmund, who is a connoisseur in such

272 ERLACH COURT.

matters, maintains that she must have been more
beautiful than her (laughter, — high praise, since the
daughter, by the way, pleases him as much as she
does me. And then what wealth of learning be-
hind that brow with its white hair ! Wells of
knowledge ! a walking encyclopaedia !

" Although the fashion of her gown was that of
twenty years ago, she is still a thorough grande
dame ; and that is saying much in consideration of
the evident dilapidation of their finances.

" As a mother she may have her disagreeable
side ; she is too original, — too egotistic. She neg-
lects her lovely daughter frightfully. All the
time not absorbed by her literary labours she de-
votes to the study of Paris; and what mode of
pursuing this study with the due amount of thor-
oughness do you suppose she has invented ? She
drives about for a certain number of hours daily
on the tops of the various omnibuses.

" Fancy ! — on the top of an omnibus ! A day
or two ago, coming home from the Bon-Marche,
as I M'as detained by a crowd of vehicles in the
Rue du Bac I saw her comfortably installed upon
the dizzy height of an omnibus-top. She wore a
short black velvet cloak frayed at all the seams,
the fur trimming eaten away by moths, pearl-gray
gloves (her hands are ridiculously small), such as
were worn twenty years ago upon state occasions,
a black straw bonnet, and no mufi". She sat be-

A PARIS LETTER. 273

tween two vagabonds in white blouses, with whom
she was talking earnestly, and looked like — well,
like a queen dowager in disguise. As it was just
beginning to rain, I sent my servant to beg her to
alight, and took her home in my carriage.

" A lady on the top of an omnibus ! It is fright-
ful; it is impossible. But still more impossible is
a young girl who wishes to go upon the stage ; and
Stella wishes to go upon the stage.

" Nevertheless ray relations with the Meinecks
grow daily more intimate. Heroic conduct on my
part, is it not ?

" Poor little Stella ! I feel an infinite pity for her.
I have no faith in her career. Pshaw ! Stella
Meineck on the stage ! 'Tis ridiculous ! She does
not know what she is talking about.

" Meanwhile, I have impressed upon her that
she is to tell no one of her artistic plans, which
may come to naught. It might do her an injury.
And I have a scheme ! Ah, leave it to me. What
I do I do well. Before the season is over Stella
will be married. To establish a young girl with
no money is difficult nowadays, particularly in
Paris, where every man has a fixed price ; but there
are bargains to be had occasionally.

" She is beautiful, she is lovely, and if the Mei-
necks do not date preciselj' from the Crusades the
name souuds fine enough to impress some wealthy
citizen who writes on his card the name of his

274 ERLAOH COURT.

estate in the country after his own, in hopes of thus
manufacturing a title for himself.

" I see you curl your haughty Austrian lip ; you
regard all these pseudo-aristocrats with sovereign
contempt. You are wrong. Good heavens ! why
should not a man call himself after his castle if it
has a prettier name than his own? Do we not
find it more agreeable to present him to our ac-
quaintances as Monsieur de Hauterive than as Mon-
sieur Cabouat ? Now 'tis out ! There is a cerLiin
Monsieur Cabouat de Hauterive whom I have in
my eye for Stella. He is very rich, has frequented
the society of gentlemen from childhood, and has
been received during the last few years by every-
body; he loves music, has one of the finest private
picture-galleries in Paris, and is in the prime of
life, — barely forty-two, — quite young for a man :
in short, he seems made for Stella. Last summer
he laughingly challenged me to find a wife for him,
expressly stating that he desired no dowry. At
that time he was longing for repose and a home.
I heard lately, however, that he had become en-
tangled in a lia.ison with S , of the Opera-Bouffe.

That would be frightful.

" Moreover, I have two other men in view for
Stella, — an Englishman, forty-five years old, rather
shy in consequence of deafness, of very good family,
an income of six thousand pounds sterling, and of
good trustworthy character; and a Dutchman whose

A PARIS LETTER. 275

ears were cut off in Turkey, wherefore he is com-
pelled to wear his hair after the fashion of the
youthful Bonaparte ; hut these are trifles.

" Poor melancholy little Stella will be glad to
shelter her weary head beneath any respectable
roof. The only thing that troubles me is that Zino
knew her three years ago in Venice, and is perfectly
bewitched by her. Can I prevent him from making
love to her? It would be dreadful. Not that it
would ever occur to him to be wanting in respect
for her, but he might turn her head, and that would
ruin all my plans. She might then conceive the idea
of marrying only a man with whom she is in love,
— perfect nonsense in her position : there is none
such for her. Love is an article of supreme luxury
in marriage, and exists for wealthy people and day-
labourers only.

" Yes, when I do anything I do it well ! I do not
write to you for two years, but then I give you
twenty pages at once. Have you had the patience
to read all this? If you have, let me entreat you
to take to heart what follows.

" Give us the pleasure of a visit from you. You
do not know our new home, and I am burning with
desire to show it to you. In the first story of our
little house there is a room all ready for you, very
comfortable, and, I give you my word, the chimney
does not smoke. If you cannot be induced to come
to us, let Edmund take rooms for you wherever you

276 ERLACH COURT.

please. Only come ! I shall else fancy that you
have never forgiven me for once being bold enough
to want to marry you off. Adieu ! I promise you
faithfully not to try to lasso you again. With kind-
est messages from us all,

" Your affectionate sister,

« THtEi:SB."

An extra slip of paper accompanied this succinct
document. Its contents were as follows :

" Paris, 27th December.

" How forgetful I am ! The enclosed letter has
been lying for a week in my portfolio. Although
it is an old story now, I send it, because it will in-
form you of all that has been going on.

" Two words more. Since I wrote it I have in-
vited Stella and Hauterive to dinner once, and have
had them another evening in our box at the opera.
They both dislike "Wagner : that is something.
Moreover, he thinks her enchanting, and she does
not think him very disagreeable, — which is about
all that can be expected in a manage de eonvenance.
Everything is working along smoothly; the be-
trothal is a mere question of time. What do you
say now to my energy and capacity ?"

4: :^ :)c :t; :}c :)c :)c

He says nothing. He is very pale, and his hands
tremble as he folds the letter and puts it away in

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 277

his desk. A distressing, paralyzing sensation over-
powers him. For a moment he sits motionless at
his writing-table, his elbows resting upon it, his
head in his hands. Suddenly he springs to his feet.

" 'Tis a crime ! I must prevent it !" The next
moment he slays his zeal with a smile. He pre-
vent? And how ? Shall he, like his namesake in
the opera, rush in at the moment when the be-
trothal is going on and shout out his veto ? And
what is it to him if Stella chooses to lead a wealthy,
brilliant existence beside an unloved husband ? No
one forces her to do so.

Meanwhile, the door of his room opens, and with
the familiarity of an old comrade the captain eaters.

" Will you not play a game of billiards with me,
Edgar, before I drive out ?" he asks.

Eohritz declares himself ready for a game.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A STOKM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

The billiard-table is in the library, a long, narrow
room, with a vast deal of old-fashioned learning en-
closed in tall, glazed bookcases. In a metal cage
between the windows swings a gray parrot with a
red head, screaming monotonously, ' Rascal ! ras-

24

278 ERLACH COURT.

cal !" The afternoon sun gleams upon the glass
of the bookcases ; the whole room is filled with
blue-gray smoke, and looks very comfortable.
The gentlemen are both excellent billiard-players,
only Edgar is a little out of practice. Leaning on
his cue, he is just contemplating with admiration
a bold stroke of his friend's, when Freddy, quite
beside himself, rushes into the room and into his
father's arms.

"Why, what is it? w^hat is the matter, old fel-
low ?" the captain says, stroking his cheek kindly.

" Os — ostler Frank " Freddy begins, but

without another word he bursts into a fresh howl.

Startled by such sounds of woe from her son,
Katrine hurries in, to find the captain seated in a
huge leather arm-chair, the boy between his knees,
vainly endeavouring to soothe him. Eohritz stands
half smiling, half sympathetically, beside them,
chalking his cue, while the parrot rattles at the
bars of his cage and tries to out-shriek Freddy.

" What has happened ? Has he hurt himself?
What is the matter ?" Katrine asks, in great agi-
tation.

" IJ — n — no !" sobs Freddy, his fingers in his
eyes, and the corners of his mouth terribly de-
pressed ; " but OS — ostler Frank "

Ostler Frank is the second coachman and
Freddy's personal friend.

" Ostler Frank is an ass !" exclaims the captain,

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 279

beginning to trace the connection of ideas in Ms
son's mind; "an ass. You must not let him
frighten you."

" What did he tell you ?" asks Katrine, standing
beside her husband. " How did he frighten you ?
He has not dared to tell you a ghost-story? I
expressly forbade it."

" Oh, no, Katrine : 'tis all about some stupid
nonsense, not worth speaking of," replies the cap-
tain, — " a mere nothing."

" I should like to know what it is, however,"
Katrine says, growing more uneasy.

"He— told — me — papa must fight a duel; and
when^they — fight a duel — they are killed!" Freddy
screams, in despair, nearly throttling his father in
his afiection and terror.

" I should really be glad to have some intelligi-
ble explanation of the matter," Katrine says, with
dignity.

" Oh, it is the merest trifle," the captain rejoins,
changing colour, and tugging at his moustache.

" The afiair is very simple, madame," Rohritz
interposes. " Les felt it his duty, lately, — the day
before yesterday, in fact, — to chastise an impertinent
scoundrel in Hradnyk, and has conscientiously kept
at home since, awaiting the fellow's challenge, —
of course in vain. "What he should have done
would have been to emphasize in a note the box
on the ear he administered."

280 ERLACH COURT.

" Yes, that's true," says the captain ; " it is a
pity that it did not occur to me."

Freddy has gradually subsided. As during his
tearful misery he has done a great deal of rub-
bing at his eyes with inky jfingers, his cheeks are
now streaked with black, and he is sent oft' by his
mother with a smile, in charge of a servant, to be
washed.

" Might I be informed," she asks, after the
door has closed upon the child, and with a rather
mis-trustful glance at her husband, " what the indi-
vidual at Hradnyk did to provoke the chastisement
in question ?"

" 'Tis not worth the telling, Katrine," stammers
the captain. " Why should you care to know any-
thing about it ?"

" You are very wrong, Les, to make any secret
of it," Rohritz interposes. " The scoundrel under-
took to use certain expressions which irritated Les,
with regard to you, madame."

" With regard to me ?" Katrine exclaims, with a
contemptuous curl of her lip. " What could any
one say about me ?"

" What, indeed ?" the captain repeats. " Well, I
will tell you all about it some time when we are
alone, if you insist upon it. It was a silly affair
altogether, but I took the matter to heart."

" You Hotspur !" Katrine laughs.

Rohritz has just turned to slip out of the room

A STORM AND ITS CONSEqUENCES. 281

and leave the pair to a reconciliatory ttie-d-ttte, when
the door opens, and a servant announces that the
sleigh is ready.

"Where are you going?" Katrine asks, hastily,
in an altered tone, as the servant withdraws.

" I was going to Glockenstein, to take the 'Maitrc
de Forges' to the grass-widow ; she asked me for it
yesterday ; but if you wish, Katrine, I will stay at
home."

"If I wish," Katrine coldly repeats. "Since
when have I attempted to interfere in any way with
your innocent amusements ?"

" I only thought you have sometimes seemed

to me a little jealous of the grass-widow."

Rohritz could have boxed his friend's ears for his
want of tact. Katrine's aristocratic features take
on an indescribably haughty and contemptuous ex-
pression.

" Jealous? — I?" she rejoins, with cutting severity,
adding, with a shrug, " on the contrary, I am glad
to have another woman relieve me of the trouble of
entertaining you."

Tame submission to such words from his wife,
and before a witness, is not the part of a hot-blooded
soldier like Jack Leskjewitsch.

" Adieu, Eohritz !" he says, and, with a low bow
to his wife, he leaves the room.

For an instant Katrine seems about to run after
him and bring him back. She takes one step
24*

282 ERLAC3 COURT.

towards the door, then pauses undecided. T^he
sharp, shrill sound of sleigh-bells rises from with-
out through the wintry silence : the sleigh has
driven off. Katrine goes to the window to look
after it. "With lightning speed it glides along, the
centre of a bluish, sparkling cloud of snow-particles
whirled aloft by the trampling horses. It is out of
sight almost immediately.

Her head bent, Katrine turns from the window,
and leaves the room with lagging steps.

The menu for dinner comprises the captain's
favourite dish of roast pheasants, but six o''clock
strikes and the master of the house has not yet
arrived at home.

" "Would it not be better to postpone the dinner
a little for to-day ?" Katrine asks Rohritz, for
form's sake. They wait one hour, — two hours :
the captain does not appear. At last Katrine or-
ders dinner to be served. Unable to eat a morsel,
she sits with an empty plate before her, hardly
speaking a word.

The meal is over, coffee has been served, Freddy
has played three games of cards with his tutor and
then disappeared with a very sleepy face.

Katrine and Rohritz sit opposite each other, each
taking great pains to appear unconcerned. One
quarter of an hour after another passes without a
word exchanged between them. Suddenly Katrine

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 283

rises, goes to the window, opens first the inner
shutter and then the peep-hole in the other.

"Listen how the wind roars!" she says, in a
hoarse, subdued voice, to Rohritz. "And the
snow is falling as if a feather bed had been cut
in two." .

Eohritz is really unable to smile, as he would
have been tempted to do at any other time, at the
contrast between Katrine's deeply tragic air and
her very commonplace comparison : he is rather
anxious himself.

" Hark ! just hark how the wind whistles ! I
hope Jack has not got wedged in a snow-drift."

Kohritz makes some reply which Katrine does
not heed. In increasing agitation she paces the
room to and fro.

" The worst place is the bit of road near the
quarry," she murmurs to herself. " K he goes a
hand's-breadth too far on one side, then "

" Les has a remarkable sense of locality, and is
the best whip I know," Eohritz remarks, sooth-
ingly.

She is silent, compresses her lips, listens at the
window, hearkens to the raging wind, which drives
the snow-flakes against the shutters and tears and
rattles at the boughs of the giant linden until they
shriek from out their long winter sleep.

How much we are able to forgive a man when
we are anxious about him !

284 ERLACH COURT.

" I would rather send some one to meet him,"
she stammers. "I am exceedingly anxious."

She reaches out her hand for the bell-rope, when
suddenly from the far distance, like mocking, elfin
laughter, comes the tinkle of sleigh-bells. Katrine
holds h,er breath, listens. The sleigh approaches,
draws up before the door. Rohritz goes out into
the hall. Katrine hears a man stamping the snow
from his boots, hears the captain's fresh, cheery voice
as he answers his friend's questions. Her anxiety
is converted into a sensation of great bitterness.
She cannot rally herself too much for her childish
anxiety, cannot forgive herself for behaving so ri-
diculously before Hohritz. Whilst she has been
fancying her husband lost in a snow-drift, he beyond
all doubt has been admirably entertained with the
grass- widow.

The door opens ; the captain appears alone, with-
out his comrade.

" Still up, Katrine ?" he asks, in a gentle under-
tone, approaching his wife, and with an uncertain,
half-embarrassed smile he adds, " Rohritz told me
you were anxious about — about me." As he speaks
he tries to take his wife's hand to draw her towards
him ; but Katrine avoids him.

" Rohritz was mistaken," she rejoins, very dryly.
" For a moment I thought you might have fallen
into the quarry, because I could not see any ap-
parent reason for your late return. But as for

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 285

anxiety " "Without finishing the sentence, she

shrugs her shoulders.

The captain smiles bitterly, and passes his hand
across his forehead.

" Yes, he was evidently mistaken ; it was an at-
tempt to bring us together," he murmurs; "his
sentimental representation did at first seem rather
incredible to me. But what one wishes to believe
one does believe so easily ! I was foolish enough
to delight in the hope of a kindly welcome from
you ; but, in fact, in compaHson with the reception
you have vouchsafed me the weather outside is
genial."

He seats himself astride of a low chair, and be-
gins to drum impatiently upon the back of it.

" It seems to me quite late enough to go to bed,"
says Katrine, taking a silver candlestick from the
mantel-piece. " It is a quarter-past ten."

Suddenly the captain grasps her by the wrist.
" Stay !" he says, sternly.

" You have come back in a very bad humour,"
Katrine remarks, with a contemptuous smile. " The
grass-widow must have proved unkind. Your de-
lay in returning led me to suppose the contrary."

The captain looks at his wife with an odd ex-
pression. Was it possible she could take suflicient
interest in him to be jealous ?

" I have not seen the grass-widow," he rejoins
after a short pause.

286 ERLACH COURT.

" That is, you did not find her at home ? How
very sad !"

" I did not go to Glockensteia."

" Ah, indeed ! I thought "

" You are quite right," he said, with an air of
bravado. "After the very kind and choice words
with which in the presence of an auditor you dis-
missed me, I certainly whipped up the horses in
order to reach Glockenstein with all speed. When
angels will have nothing to do with us, we are fain
to go for consolation to the devil : he is sure to be
at hand. Frau Ruprecht would have received me
with open arms ; I am by no means" — with a forced
laugh — " so insignificant in her eyes; for her I am
quite a hero, and — what would you have? she is
stupid, but she is pretty and young, and an amount
of consideration from any woman flatters a poor
fellow who is nev^er without the consciousness of
his inferiority in the eyes of his clever wife at
home."

" Ah ! really ?" Katrine sneers. " May I beg
you to make a little haste with your explanations ?
— the lamp is beginning to burn dimly."

" It burns quite well enough for what I have
to say," replies the captain. " I whipped up my
horses, as I said, — I was positively in a hurry to
fall at the Euprecht's feet; but, just at the last
moment, so many difierent things occurred to me !
Glockenstein was in sight, but I turned aside, and

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 287

tlien drove over to Eeitzenberg's to settle with him
about the wood."

" Ah ! It seems to have been a very protracted
business discussion."

" I took supper with Reitzenberg, and played a
game of cards afterwards."

" Hm ! Since, then, you have perhaps suffi-
ciently explained the reason of your delay, will
you permit me to withdraw ?" Katrine asks.

" Apparently you do not believe me. And yet
you ought to know that falsehood is not to be
reckoned among my bad qualities."

"True; but" — Katrine shrugs her shoulders —
" no man hesitates to improvise a little when
there's a lady in the case. I should like to know,
however, why you take so much trouble in the
present instance for me, who have so little interest
in such things." And, taking the candlestick once
more from the chimney-piece, she asks, " Can I go
now? Have you finished?"

" 'So," he exclaims, angrily, " I have not finished,
and you will hearken to me. Matters are come to
a worse pass than you fancy; our whole existence
is at stake. You know how my^ sister Lina's mar-
riage turned out, and you are in a fair way to
plunge me into the same misery into which Franz
Meineck was thrust by his wife."

" Your comparison of me to your sister seems to
me rather forced," Katrine replies. " I know it is

288 ERLACH COURT.

not pleasant to hear one's relatives criticised by
another, however we may disapprove of them our-
selves, but I must defend myself. Your sister neg-
lected her household and her children, giving her-
self over to a ridiculous ambition; whilst I "

She hesitates, deterred from proceeding by some-
thing in the captain's look :

" Whilst you " he begins. " I know perfectly

well what you would say. Your household is per-
fectly attended to, you are an ideal mother, and
daintily neat. In a word, you would have been
for me the ideal wife if you had ever shown me a
particle of affection."

" I have always done my duty by you."

" Your hard, prescribed, bounden duty."

" You could not expect anything more of me.
When we married it was agreed between us that
each should be satisfied with a sensible amount
of friendship."

He has risen, and is gazing at her keenly, search-
ingly.

" That is true ; you are right," he says, bitterly.
" The sad thing about it is that I had forgotten it !"

" I cannot understand how you — I must say I
never have observed — that you "

" Indeed ?' You never have observed that I have
long ceased to keep my part of our compact !" the
captain exclaims. " Really ? Women are fabu-
lously blind when they do not choose to see. Do

A SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 289

you suppose I should have allowed the reins to be
taken from my hands, do you suppose I should
have resigned my authority over you, have lost the
right of disposing of my own child, and have aban-
doned my profession, if — if I had not fallen in love
with you like a very school-boy ! There ! now
despise me doubly for my confession, and until
you see me stifling in the mire, like poor Franz
Meineck, console yourself with the conviction that
you have done your duty by me."

He makes her a profound bow, then turns and
leaves the room.

CHAPTER XXX.

A SLEEPLESS NIGHT.

" Until you see me stifling in the mire, like poor
Franz Meineck, console yourself with the convic-
tion that you have done your duty by me."

Strange how deeply these words are impressed
upon Katrine's soul! She does not sleep during
the night following upon the captain's explanation,
no, not for a quarter of an hour.

She tosses about. restlessly in bed; a moonbeam
which has contrived to slip through a crack in her
shutters points at her with uncanny persistency,^
JT t 25

290 ERLACS COURT.

like an accusing gliostly finger. The little clock
on her writing-table strikes twelve; the sixth of
January is past, the seventh of January has begun.
The seventh of January ! It was her wedding-day.
On the seventh of January nine years before, with-
out a spark of love for Jack Leskjewitsch, but
with the angry memory of humiliation suffered at
another's hands, she had donned her gown of
bridal white and her bridal wreath had been placed
upon her head. In her inmost soul she had com-
pared her bridal robes to a shroud, and so cold, so
white, so stern, had she looked on that day that
those who helped to dress her for the sacred cere-
mony had often said later that they had seemed to
themselves to be preparing a corpse for burial,
while all who witnessed the marriage declared
that no funeral could have been sadder.

She had first known Jack on her father's, the

Freiherr von Einsky's, estate in M . Quartered

at the castle. Jack had soon ingratiated himself with
its gouty old master. Katrine did not dislike him,
— nay, she rather liked him. Her pride, which had
been suffering from the destruction of her illusions
ever since the winter she had spent with her aunt
in Pesth three years before, turned with a bitter-
ness that bordered on disgust from all the homage
paid her by men. Jack Leskjewitsch had always
been attentive to her without ever making love to
her, — which attracted her. When he asked her

A SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 291

to marry him he did it in so dry, odd a way that
from sheer surprise she did not at once say no.

She replied that she would take his offer into
consideration. Living beneath the same roof with
a young stepmother whom she did not like, and
who ruled her father, the suit of a wealthy, thor-
oughly honourable man was not to be lightly re-
jected. Yet if he had wooed her passionately and
tenderly she would surely have refused to listen to
him. This, however, he did not do.

"When she confessed to him that a bitter disap-
pointment had paralyzed all the sentiment she had
ever possessed, that he was not to expect any love
from her, he received the confession with the
utmost calmness, and replied that he too had
nothing to offer her save cordial friendship.

" Those of my friends who married for love
are one and all wretched now. Let us try it after
another fashion," he had said to her. And thus,
almost with a laugh, without the slightest emo-
tion, they had been betrothed on a gray, rainy
November day, when the winds were raging as if
they had sworn to blow out the sun's light in
the skies, while the last field-daisies were hanging
their heads among the faded meadow-grass as if
tired of life.

Six weeks afterwards they were married, and
took the usual trip to Rome and from one hotel
to another.

292 ERLACH COURT.

The pale moonbeam still pointed at her like an
accusing finger; its silver light fell upon her past
and revealed many things which she had heedlessly
forgotten during the nine years which now lay
behind her.

She had married poor, very poor, — had brought
her husband nothing save her trousseau.

All the material comfort of her existence came
from him. To show him any special gratitude
for that would indeed have been petty; but, put-
ting it aside, with how much consideration he had
always treated her ! how carefully he had removed
from her path all need for trouble and exertion,
with the tenderness which rude soldiers alone know
how to lavish upon their wives. She had com-
plained of the inconveniences of the nomadic life
of the army ; but who had drained all those incon-
veniences to the dregs ? He ! He had taken all
trouble upon himself. In their wanderings she and
the child had been cared for like the most frail
and precious treasures, upon the transportation of
which it was impossible to bestow too much thought.
It had always been, " Spare yourself, and look out
for the boy !" and either " It is too hot," or " It is
too cold: you might be ill, or you might take
cold ; but do not stir. I will see to it ; rely upon
me!"

Yes, she had indeed relied upon him ; he looked
after everything, wiliout any words, without annoy-

A SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 293

ing her with restlessness, quietly, simply, and as if
it could not have been otherwise.

>And what had she done for him in return for
all his care and consideration? She had kept his
home in order, had treated hira with more or less
friendliness, had never flirted in the least with any
other man, and had presented him with a charming
child.

But no ; she had not even presented him with it :
she had jealously kept it for herself, had grudged
him every caress which the boy bestowed upon Ms
father ; she had spoiled the child in order that she
might hold the first place in his heart. Yet, oddly
enough, in spite of all her indulgence the boy was
fonder of his fiery, irritable, good-humoured, but
strict papa whose nod he obeyed, than of herself,
whom the young gentleman could wind around his
finger. She confessed this to herself, not without
bitterness.

When, the previous autumn, Erlach Court had
come to her by inheritance from a grand-uncle, she
was filled with a desire to break off all connection
with an army life. Without the slightest consider-
ation for her husband, she had left him and forced
him for her sake to adopt an existence that was
contrary to all his habits and tastes. The moon-
beam still penetrated into her room: it grew brighter
and brighter, and at last lit up the most secluded
corner of her heart.

25*

294 ERLAGH COURT.

" Until you see me stifling in the mire, like poor
Franz Meineck, console yourself with the con-
viction that you have done your duty by me."

Again and again the^ words echoed through her
soul.

" I have done my duty by him," she repeated to
herself, with the obstinacy with which we are
wont to clutch a self-illusion that threatens to
vanish. " I have done my duty."

Suddenly she trembles from head to foot, and,
hiding her face in the pillow, she bursts into tears.

The boundless egotism, in all its petty childish-
ness, which has informed her intercourse with her
husband flashes upon her conscience.

How is it that she has never perceived that he has
long since ceased to perform his part of their agree-
ment? Little tokens of affection full of a timid
poetry hitherto heedlessly overlooked now occur
to her. Why had she not understood them?
"Why had she never felt a spark of love for him ?
Her cheeks burn. She had continually reproached
her husband with never being done with his il-
lusions, and she In a secret drawer of her

writing-table there is at this very moment, shriv-
elled and faded, a gardenia which she has never
been able to bring herself to destroy. She
springs up, lights a candle, hastens to her writing-
table, finds the ugly brown relic, — and burns it.
When she lies down in bed again the admonitory

GLOWING EMBERS. 295

moonbeam has vanished, but through the cold
black of the winter night filters the first weak shim-
mer of the dawn. The dreamy ding-dong of a
church bell among the mountains ringing for early
mass has the peaceful sound of a sacred morning
serenade as it floats into her room.

It is barely six o'clock. She folds her hands,
a fervent prayer rises to her lips, and, with a still
more fervent, unspoken prayer in her heart, her
brown head sinks back upon the cool white pillow,
and she falls asleep.

CHAPTER XXXL

GLOWING EMBBKS.

" Papa is lazy to-day," Freddy remarks the next
morning, breaking the silence that reigns at the
breakfast-table and looking pensively at his father's
empty chair. It is late, Freddy has drunk his
milk, and Rohritz and the tutor are engaged with
their second cup of tea. The host, usually so
early, has not yet made his appearance.

" You ought not to make such remarks about
papa," Katrine corrects her son on this occasion,
although she is usually very indulgent to Freddy's

296 ERLAGH COURT.

impertinence. "Run up to his room and tell him
I sent you to ask whether he took cold last even-
ing, and if he would not like a cup of tea sent to
him." In two minutes the boy returns, shouting
gaily, "Papa sends you word that he does not
want anything ; he has nothing but a bad cold in
his head, and he is coming presently."

In fact, the captain follows close upon the heels
of his pretty little messenger.

" I was troubled about you," Katrine says, re-
ceiving him with a sort of timid kindness which
seems painfully forced.

" Indeed ? Very kind of you," he makes reply,
in a very hoarse voice, — " but quite unnecessary."

" You seem, however, to have taken cold," Eoh-
ritz interposes.

" Pshaw ! 'tis nothing. I lost my way in the
dark last night, and got into a drift this side of

K : that's all. — Well, Katrine, am I to have

my tea?"

" I have just made you some fresh; the first was
beginning to be bitter," she makes excuse. " Wait
a moment."

The captain is about to reply, but a fit of
coughing interrupts him.

" Papa barks as Hector does at the full moon,"
Freddy remarks, merrily.

Katrine frowns. Why does Freddy seem so
thoroughly spoiled to-day?

GLOWING EMBERS. 297

" I told you just now that it is very wrong in
you to speak in that way of your father."

"Let him doit; papa knows what he means,"
the captain replies, turning to his little son sitting
heside him rather than to his wife. " You're fond
enough of papa, — love him pretty well, — eh, my
boy ?"

" Oh, don't I?" says Freddy, nestling close to
his father; " don't I?" That any one could doubt
this fact evidently amazes him. The captain talks
and plays merrily with the boy, never addressing a
single M'ord to Katrine.

Breakfast is over. For an hour Katrine has
been sitting in her room, some sewing which has
dropped from her hands lying in her lap, listening
and waiting for his step, — in vain. Another quar-
ter of an houi* glides by : her heart throbs louder
and louder, and tears fill her eyes. Suddenly she
tosses her work aside, rises, and with head erect,
looking neither to the right nor to the left, walks
with firm, rapid steps along the corridor to the
captain's room. At the door she pauses, — pauses
for one short moment,— then boldly turns the latch
and enters. Is he there ? Yes, he is standing at
the window, looking out upon the quiet, white
landscape. Eather surprised, he looks back over
his shoulder at his wife, for he knows it is she : he
could recognize her step among a thousand.

" Do you want anything ?" he asks, dryly.

298 ' ERLACH COURT.

"IST— no."

The captain turns again to the snowy landscape.

" "What are you gazing at so steadily ?" Katrine
asks him. " Is there anything particularly inter-
esting to be seen out there ?"

" No," he replies ; '■ but when the room is cheer-
less, one looks out of the window for diversion."

A pause ensues.

" What shall I say to him ? what can I say to
him ?" she asks herself, uneasily. The blood
mounts to her cheeks ; she stands rooted to the
spot, not venturing to approach him. At last,
she begins with all the indifference at her com-
mand, " You have forgotten our wedding-day to-
day, for the first time. Strange !"

" Very," the captain rejoins, with bitter irony.

Another pause ensues. Katrine is just about
to withdraw, mortified, when the captain again
turns to her.

" I did not forget. 'Eo, I do not forget such
things ; and, if you care to know, I had provided
the yearly, touching surprise in celebration of the
anniversary; but I suppressed it at the very last
moment."

"And why?"

" Why ? A woman of your superior sense should
be able to answer that question herself. After
having been laughed at eight times for my well-
meant attentions, I said to myself finally that it

GLOWING EMBERS. 299

was useless to serve for the ninth time as a target
for your sarcasm."

She comes a step nearer to him,

"I had no desire to laugh to-day."

" Indeed ! Hm ! then you can open the packet
on my writing-table. I had the boy photographed
for you, and the picture turned out' very well."

She opens the packet. 'Tis a perfect picture,
— Freddy himself, bright, wayward, charming, one
hand upon his hip, his fur cap on his head.

" He is a beauty, our boy !" she exclaims, smiling
down upon the picture in its simple frame.

" Our boy !" the captain murmurs. " You are
immensely gracious to-day ; you usually speak of
him as if he belonged to you only."

Katrine blushes a little, but, without apparently
noticing this last remark, says, " He begins to look
like you, the dear little fellow 1"

"Indeed? Tis a pity "

" You really would do better to sit by the fire
and warm yourself than to stand shivering at that
cold window."

" The fire has gone out, and there is small com-
fort in sitting by the ashes."

" You ought to have made the fire burn afresh."

"I tried to," he replied, with significant em-
phasis, " but I failed."

" Really !" she says, laughing archly in the midst
of her vexation; "you must have tried very awk-

300 ERLACH COURT.

wardly. If I am not mistaken, there are embers
enough under the ashes to set Rome on fire. I
should like to see."

She kneels upon the hearth, scrapes together the
embers, and with great skill and precision piles
three logs of wood on top of them. One minute
later the wood is burning with a clear flame.

" Jack !" she calls, very gently.

He starts, and looks round.

"Jack, is the fire burning brightly enough for
you now ?" she asks.

As in a dream he approaches her.

"Now sit down," she says, in a tone of gay
command, pulling forward a large, comfortable
arm-chair, " and warm yourself."

He obeys, looking down at her half in surprise,
half in tenderness, as she kneels beside him,
slender, graceful, wonderfully fair to see, with the
reflection from the fire crimsoning her cheeks and
lending a golden lustre to her light-brown hair.

Her breath comes quick, as it does when there
is something in the heart, longing for utterance,
which will not rise to the lips. She had thought
out so many fine phrases early this morning in
which to clothe her repentance, but they all stick
fast in her throat.

The bell rings for lunch. Good heavens ! is this
moment to pass without sealing their reconcilia-
tion 'i

GLOWING EMBERS. 301

He sits mute. The wood in the chimney crackles
loudly, sometimes with a noise almost like a pistol-
shot.

Katrine still kneels before the fire, growing more
and more restless. On a sudden she throws back
her head, and, casting off the unnatural degree
of feminine gentleness which has characterized her
all the morning, she exclaims angrily, her eyes
flashing through burning tears, " What would you
have, Jack ? How far must I go before you come
to meet me ?"

" Oh, Katrine, my darling, wayward Katrine !"
the captain almost shouts, clasping her in his arms.
" At last I know that 'tis no deceitful dream mock-
ing me!"

A light tripping step is heard in the corridor.
Both spring up as Freddy's merry little face ap-
pears at the door :

" Lunch is growing cold."

*******

In the evening, as the couple are sitting in the
drawing-room in the twilight, Katrine says, —

" If only there were no such thing as war !"

"What makes you think of that?" asks the
captain.

" Why, because I should beg you to go back to
the service, if I were not so mortally afraid of a
campaign."

"No need to take that into consideration," the

26

302 ERLAOB COURT.

captain rejoins, " for in case of war I should go
back immediately: not even you could prevent
me, Kitty. But tell me, could you really summon
up courage enough ?"

" Could I not ? It will be very hard eventually
to part from the boy, but sooner or later we must
send him to the Theresianeum, and — to speak
frankly — even a separation from Freddy would
not distress me so much as to see you degenerate
in an inactive life."

" You really would, then, Kitty ? — would volun-
tarily subject yourself again to all the inconve-
niences and petty miseries of the soldier's nomadic
life ?"

" Try me," and her large eyes are very serious
and determined as they look into his own, "try
me, and you shall see what a comfortable home
I will make for you in the forlornest Hungarian
village."

" Ah, you angel !" her husband exclaims, taking
her soft little hand in his and pressing it against
his cheek. " What a pity it is that we have lost
so much time in all these nine years !"

" A pity indeed," she admits, " but 'tis never too
late to mend, — eh ?"

At this moment Rohritz enters the room, as is
usual at this hour every afternoon, to get a cup of
tea! He observes, first, that the pair have forgotten
to ring for the lamp, and, secondly, that they stop

TH&R&SE, THE WISE. 303

talking upon his entrance ; in short, that, for the
first time, he has intruded.

" You have come for your tea," says Katrine.
" I had positively forgotten that there was such a
thing. Ring the bell. Jack."

Before the evening is over Edgar has made a
very important discovery, — ^to wit, that however
cordially one may rejoice when two human souls
after long and aimless wanderings come together
and are united, any prolonged association with a
couple so reconciled is considerably more tedious
than with an unreconciled pair; wherefore he
leaves Erlach Court on the following day.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THi;Ri;SE, THE WISE.

In Ther^se's boudoir are assembled four people,
Ther^se, her husband, her brother Zino, and Edgar,
— Edgar, who on the previous day, to the great
surprise of his relatives in Paris, was persuaded
to transfer himself from the Hotel Bouillemont,
whither he had gone upon his arrival, to the Ave-
nue Villiers and the shelter of his brother's hospi-
table roof

Ther^se, exhausted, more breathless than usual,

304 ERLACH COURT.

is lying on a lounge, wrapped in a thick white
coverlet, shivering, coughing, feverish, with every
symptom of a violent cold, and disputing vehe-
mently with her husband as to whether, as he
maintains, she caught the said cold on Monday at
the Bon-Marche, or, as she maintains, on Tuesday
in his smoking-room.

"B'o one could take cold in my smoking-room;
it is the only room in the house wliere the tem-
perature is a healthy one," Edmund declares.
"Judge for yourself, Edgar; there's no getting
a sensible word out of Zino. How could any one
catch cold in my smoking-room ? I know perfectly
well how she caught it. Day before yesterday
— Monday — there were bargains in Oriental rugs
advertised at the Bon-Marche. My wife rushes
there in such a storm "

" That means, I drove there in an hermetically-
closed coupe," Therfese defends herself.

" Pshaw ! the damp air always penetrates into
every carriage," her husband cuts her words short.
" The fact is, she ruslied to the Rue du Bac, where
she did not buy a single rug, but instead a dozen
umbrellas, and then came home iu a state of ex-
haustion, — such exhaustion that I had positively to
carry her up-stairs, because she was unable to stir;
and now she blames my smoking-room for her cold !
It is absurd !" And, by way of further expression
of his anger, for which words do not suffice, Ed-

TStiRESE, THE WISE. 305

mund rattles the tongs about among the embers on
the hearth.

"Have some regard for my nerves, Edmund,"
Therfese entreats, stopping her ears with her fingers.
"You make more noise than one of Wagner's
operas. Twelve umbrellas !" Then turning to
Edgar, " To place the slightest dependence upon
what my husband says "

But before she can finish her sentence Edmund
breaks in again :

"It makes no difference; it might have been
three umbrellas and six straw bonnets : it is all the
same. Every Parisian woman suffers from the
bargain-mania, but I have never seen the disease
developed to such a degree as in my wife. She
buys everything she comes across, if it is only a
bargain, — old iron rubbish, new plans of Paris, em-
broideries, antique clocks, and bottles of rock-crys-
tal as christening-presents for children who are

not yet born !"

"J. propos of presents," Ther^se observes, reflec-
tively, " do you not think, Zino, that the chandelier
of Venetian glass I bought last year would be a
good wedding-present for Stella Meineck ?"

" Is she betrothed, then ?" Zino inquires, natu-
rally.

" As good as," Ther^se assents.

" To whom ?" Capito asks, sitting down, both
hands in his trousers-pockets, and crossing his legs.
M 26*

306 ERLACH COURT.

" To Arthur de Hauterive, — a brilliant match,"
says Therese.

" Cabouat de Hauterive," murmurs Zino, ironi-
cally stroking bis moustache, and stretching his
legs out a little farther. " A brilliant match if you
choose, but rather a scaly fellow, — eh ?"

"I should like to know what objection you can
make to him," Therfese asks, crossly.

Zino shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, and
then straightens them again, without taking any
further pains to clothe in words his opinion of
Monsieur Cabouat.

" He is not a thorough gentleman," says the
elder Rohritz.

" He is a thorough snob," says Zino.

" One question, if you please." Edgar suddenly
and unexpectedly takes part in the conversation :
he has hitherto seemed quite absorbed in con-
templation of a photograph on the mantel-piece
of his little niece. " Has Fraulein Meineck agreed
to the match ?"

" Yes, to my great surprise," his brother replies.
" I did not expect it of her."

" It was no easy task to bring her round,"
Therese declares ; " but I went to work in the
most sensible manner. ' Have you any other
preference ?' I asked Stella yesterday, after telling
her that Monsieur de Hauterive was ready to lay
his person and his millions at her feet and had

TEtlRESE, THE WISE. 307

begged me to ascertain for him beforehand that
his suit would not be rejected."

" And what was Stella's reply ?" Edmund asks.

" She started and changed colour. ' Dear child/
I said, ' it is perfectly natural that you should have
some little fancy : we have all had our enthusiasms
for the man in the moon; cela va sans dire; such
trifles never count. The question is, Have you a
passion for some one who returns it and who you
have reason to hope will marry you ?'

" ' No !' she answered, very decidedly.

" ' Then do not hesitate an instant, dear child,'
I exclaimed; and when she did not reply I laid
the case before her, making clear to her how un-
justifiable her refusal of this offer would be. ' You
have no money !' I exclaimed. ' You propose to
go upon the stage. That is simply nonsense ; for,
setting aside the fact that you have scarcely voice
enough to succeed, a theatrical career for a girl
with your principles and prejudices is impossible.
Look your future in the face, dear heart. Your
little property must soon, as you cannot but admit,
be consumed; that meanwhile the fairy prince of
your girlish dreams should appear as your suitor
is not within the bounds of probability. You
must choose between two courses, either to earn
your living as a governess or to give lessons ;
since you do not wish to leave your mother, you
must adopt the latter. Fancy it! — running about

308 ERLACH COURT.

in galoshes and a 'water-proof in all kinds of
weathers, looked at askance by servants in the
halls, tormented by your clients and pupils, no
gleam of light anywhere, except in an occasional
ticket for the theatre, either given to you or pur-
chased out of your small savings, and finally in
your old age a miserable invalid existence sup-
ported chiefly by the alms of a few charitable pupils.
This is the future that awaits you if you refuse
Monsieur de Hauterive. On the other hand, if
you accept him, how delightful a life you will lead!
You can assist your mother and sister largely, and
will have nothing to do except to treat with a rea-
sonable degree of consideration a good husband
who exacts no passionate devotion from you, and
to be the mistress, with all the grace and charm
natural to you, of one of the finest houses in Paris.
"Why, you cannot possibly hesitate, my darling.' "

All three gentlemen have listened with exem-
plary patience to this lengthy exordium, — ^Ed-
mund with a gloom}^ frown, and Zino with the
half-contemptuous smile which he has taught him-
self to bestow upon the most tragic occurrences,
while Edgar's face tells no tale, as during his sis-
ter-in-law's long speech it has been steadily turned
away, gazing into the fire.

" And what did the little Baroness have to say
to your brilliant argument in favour of a sensible
marriage ?" Zino asks, after a short pause.

TEtlRESE, THE WISE. 309

" For a moment she sat perfectly quiet : she had
grown very pale, and her breath came quick.
Then she looked up at me out of those large, dark
eyes of hers, which you all know, and said, —

" ' Yes, you are right. I will be sensible.'

" I took her in my arms, and exulted in my
victory. I confess I had a hard battle ; but you
must all admit that I was right."

"I admit that you went resolutely to work,"
says her husband, gloomily.

" What do you think, Edgar ?"

" Since I have no personal knowledge of Mon-
sieur Cabouat de Hauterive, my opinion is of no
value," Edgar replies, dryly.

""Well, you at least think I was right, Zino ?"
Th6r^se exclaims, rather piqued.

" Certainly," he replies, " since I have lately be-
come quite too poor to indulge in expensive pleas-
ures, and consequently cannot marry for love. I
shall be glad at least to know Stella well taken
care of."

" Mauvais sujet !" Ther^se laughs. " I see it is
high time to marry you off, or you'll be committing
some stupidity. I must marry you all off, — ^you
too, Edgar — ah, pardon, I believe I did promise to
leave you unmolested; but I have such a superb
match for you."

" Who is it?" asks Zino. " I am really curious."

" Natalie Lipinski."

310 ERLACH COURT.

" Pardon, there you are reckoning without your
host," the Prince says, almost crossly. "Natalie
does not wish to marry."

" So say all girls, before the right man appears."

" You're wrong," Zino interposes. " I know of
three people — hm ! people of some importance — to
whom ISTatalie has given the mitten. Two of them
I cannot name : the third — well, I myself am the
third. She refused me point-blank."

" Tims! now I guess the reason of your lasting
friendship for Natalie : you are ever grateful to
her for that refusal !" Ther^se laughs. " You and
Natalie ! — it is inconceivable."

" She pleased me," the Prince confesses. " 'Tis
strange : you're sure to over-eat yourself on delica-
cies; you never do on good strong bouillon.
Natalie always reminds me of bouillon. She is
the only girl for whom ever since I first knew her
— that is, ever since I was a boy — ^I have felt the
same degree of friendship. Qzl" he takes his
watch out of his pocket; "she begged me not to
fail to come to the Rue de la Bruyk'e to-day.
Will not you come too, Edgar ? She would be
delighted to see you."

Edgar lifts his brows with a bored expression.
Before he finds time in his slow way to answer,
Ther^se interposes :

" Do go, Edgar, please ! You must know that
Monsieur de Hauterive is to make his declaration to

STELLA'S FAILURE. 311

Stella to-day. I advised him to speak to her before
he preferred his suit to her mother : it is the fashion
in Austria. Stella would be sure to value such a con-
cession to Austrian custom. Yes, Edgar, go to the
Lipinskis' and watch little Stella and her adorer.
If I were not so utterly done up I would go too, I
am so very curious."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

siella's failure.

Like most of the salons of foreigners in Paris,
even of the most distinguished, that of the Li-
pinskis produces the impression of a social mena-
gerie. Artists, Americans, diplomatists, stand out
in strong relief against a background of old Rus-
sian acquaintances. French people are seldom met
with there. Scarcely three months have passed
since the Lipinskis took up their abode in Paris,
and they have not yet had time to organize their
circle. The agreeable atmosphere of every-day
intimacy which constitutes the chief charm of every
select circle is lacking. The Russians and the
elderly diplomatists gather for the most part about
the fireplace, where Madame Lipinski holds her
little court.

312 ERLACS COURT.

She is an uncommonly distinguished, graceful
old lady, who had been a celebrated beauty in the
best days of the Emperor IS'icholas's reign, and had
played her part at cour*^. One of the Empress's
maids of honour, she had preserved in her heart
an undying, unchanging love for the chivalric,
maligned Emperor, so sadly tried towards the end
of his life. She wears her thick white hair stroked
back from her temples and adorned by a rather fan-
tastic cap of black lace; her tiny ears, undecorated
by ear-rings, are exposed, — which looks rather odd
in a woman of her age. As soon as she becomes at
her ease with a new acquaintance she tells him of the
annoyance which these same tiny ears occasioned
her at the time when she was maid of honour.
The Empress condemned her to wear her hair
brushed down over her cheeks, merely because the
Emperor once at a ball extolled the beauty of her
ears.

" She was jealous, the poor Empress," the old
lady is wont to close her narrative by declaring,
and then, raising her eyes to heaven, she says, with
a deprecatory shrug, " Of me !" What she likes
best to tell, however, is how the Emperor once,
when he honoured her with a morning call, had
with the greatest patience kindled her fire in the
fireplace, whereupon she had exclaimed, " Ah, Sire,
if Europe could behold you now !"

The artistic elemeii-. oolleets about Natalie.

STELLA'S FAILURE. 313

On the day when Edgar and Zino are sent to the
Lipinskis' to observe Stella and Monsieur Cabouat,
the artistic element is represented by a pianist of
much pretension and with his fingers stuck into
india-rubber thimbles, and besides by Signor della
Seggiola.

Delia Seggiola, without his gray velvet cap, in a
black dress-coat, looks freshly washed and — im-
mensely unhappy. His comfortable, barytone self-
possession stands him in no stead. in this cool at-
mosphere : he has no opportunity to produce the
jokes and merry quips with which he is wont to
enliven his scholars during his lessons. Restless
and awkward, he goes from one arm-chair to an-
other, is absorbed in admiration of a piece of Jap-
anese lacquer, and breathes a sigh of relief when
he is asked to sing something, which seems to him
far easier in a drawing-room than to talk.

The pianist, on the contrary, needs a deal of
urging before he consents to pound away fiercely
at the Pleyel piano as though he were a personal
enemy of the maker.

" I have a great liking for artists," Madame Li-
pinski, after watching the barytone through her
eye-glass, declares to her neighbour Prince Su-
warin, who is known in Parisian society by the
nickname of memento mori, " but they seem to me
like hounds, — delightful to behold in the open air,
but mischievous in a drawing-room. One always
o 27

314 ERLACH COVRT.

dreads lest they should upset something. ITatalie
disagrees with me : she likes to have them in the
house ; she is exactly my opposite, my daughter."

Ill this Prince Capito agrees with her, and hence
his regard for Natalie.

It is about half-past ten when Edgar and Zino
enter the Lipinski drawing-room. After Edgar
has paid his respects to both ladies of the house, — a
ceremony much prolonged by Madame Lipinski, —
he looks about for Stella, and perceives her directly
in the centre of the room, seated on a yellow divan
from which rises a tall camellia-tree with red blos-
soms, beside Zino. lie is about to approach her,
when he feels a hand upon his arm. He turns.
Stasy stands beside him, affected, languishing, in a
youthful white gown, a bouquet of roses on her
breast, and a huge feather fan in her hand.

" "What an unexpected pleasure !" she murmurs.

As just at this moment a young lady, a pupil
of the pianist, has seated herself at the piano, to
play a bolero, Edgar is obliged to keep quiet, and
cannot help being detained beside the wicked
old fairy; nay, he is even pinned down in a chair
beside her.

The assemblage listens in silence to the young
performer's first effort ; but when the Spanish dance
is followed by a Swedish ' reverie' the silence
ceases. The hum of conversation rises throughout
the room, — conversation conducted in that half-

STELLA'S FAILURE. 315

whisper which reminds one of the low murmur
of faded leaves. The first to begin it was Zino.

" I do not understand how such delicate hands
can have so hard a touch," he whispers, leaning
a little towards Stella, with a significant glance
towards the narrow-chested little American at the
piano. " Dummy instruments ought always to he
provided for these drawing-room performances of
young ladies : there would be just as much op-
portunity' for the performers to display their beau-
tiful hands, a'nd the misery of the audience would
be greatly alleviated."

Stella laughs a little, a very little. She is mel-
ancholy to-night. Zino thinks of the sword of
Damocles suspended above her fair head, and pities
her. For a moment he is compassionately silent ;
then, espying Anastasia, he says, " I should like to
know how the G-urlichingen comes here. She is
a person of whom, were I IsTatalie, I should steer
clear."

" To steer clear of the Gurlichingen against her
will is almost as difiicult as to steer clear of an
epidemic disease ; she steals upon us perfectly un-
awares," says Stella, with a slight shrug.

" Of all antipathetic women whom I have ever
encountered, the Gurlichingen is the most antipa-
thetic," the Prince boldly asseverates. " Her smile
is peculiarly agreeable. It always reminds me of
Captain "White's Oriental pickles, — ' the most ex-

316 ERLACH COURT.

quisite compound of sweet and sour.' At Nice
they called her the death's-head with forget-me-
not eyes. To-night she looks like a skeleton at a
masquerade. Just look at her ! If she only would
not show all her thirty-two teeth at once!"

"Where is she?" asks Stella, slightly turning
her head. So great has been her dread of per-
ceiving somewhere her menacing destiny, Monsieur
de Hauterive, that hitherto she has not looked
about at all.

"There, between Eohritz and that flower-table,
there "

By ' Rohritz' Stella has been wont for weeks to
understand the husband of Therese; she has not
yet heard of Edgar's arrival in Paris. She raises
her eyes, and starts violently. He is here in the
same room with her, and has not even taken the
trouble to bid her good-evening. Good heavens !
what of that ? How many minutes will pass be-
fore Monsieur de Hauterive comes to ask her to
redeem Therese Rohritz's pledged word? and
then The blood mounts to her cheeks.

"Saprisii!" Zino thinks to himself, "can it be
possible that my brother-in-law has been keener
of vision than my very clever sister ?"

" Do you not think. Baron Rohritz," Stasy mean-
while remarks to the victim still fettered to her
side, " that Prince Capito pays too marked atten-
tion to our little friend Stella ?"

STELLA'S FAILURE. 317

" That is his affair," Edgar replies, coldly.

" And what does your sister-in-law say to Stella's
conduct with Capito ?"

" My sister-in-law evidently has no fault what-
ever to find with the young lady, for this very day
she praised her in the warmest terms."

" Yes, yes," Stasy murmurs ; " Ther^se, they
say, has taken Stella under her wing."

" She is very fond of her."

" Yes, yes ; all Paris is aware that Ther^se," — to
speak all the more familiarly of her distinguished
acquaintances the less intimate she is with them
is one of Stasy's disagreeable characteristics, —
" that Therfese has set herself the task of marrying
Stella well. If this be so she ought to advise the
girl to conduct herself somewhat more prudently,
or the little goose will soon have compromised
herself so absolutely that it will be impossible to
find a respectable match for her. Do you know
that for Stella's sake Zino has joined della Seg^
giola's class ?"

" Would you make Stella Meineck responsible
for Prince Capito's eccentricities ?"

" Granted that it was not in consequence of her
direct permission, — I do not say it was. But she
makes appointments with him in the Louvre ;
and" — Stasy's eyes sparkle with fiendish triumph
— " she visits him at his lodgings. A very worthy
and truthful friend of mine has rooms opposite the

27*

318 ERLACH COURT.

Prince's in the Rue d'Anjou, and she lately saw
Stella, closely veiled, pass beneath the archway
of his "

"Absurd!" Eohritz exclaims, indignantly; and,
without allowing her to finish, he leaves her very
unceremoniously to go to Stella. But before he
can make his way among the various trains, and
the thicket of furniture of a Parisian drawing-
room, to the yellow divan, some one else has taken
the place beside Stella just vacated by Zino, — a
handsome, broad-shouldered man of about forty,
well dressed, correct in his appearance, but not dis-
tinguished, although it would be impossible to de-
scribe what is lacking. There is something brand-
new, stiff, shiny, about him. Between him and a
dandy of the purest water, like Capito, for in-
stance, there is the same difference that is to be
found between a piece of genuine old Meissner
porcelain and some of modern manufacture.

" Who is the man with the red face and peaked
moustache beneath the camellia there?" Edgar
asks his old acquaintance Prince Suwarin, whom
he has just met.

" That is a certain Oabouat de Hauterive, a
millionaire, who is very fond of pretty things," re-
plies Suwarin. " A little while ago he bought a
superb Rousseau for his gallery, and now, they
say, he intends to buy a pretty wife for his house.
But he is absolutely lacking in the very A, B, C of

STELLA'S FAILURE. 319

ffisthetie knowledge. The picture-dealer, Arthur
Stevens, selected his Rousseau for him. I should
like to know who found a wife for him. "Whoever
it was had good taste, I must say. The stupid
fellow brags to all his acquaintances of the beauty
of his new acquisition. She's a countrywoman
of yours, if I'm not mistaken, — the young girl
there beside him. She is simply divine !"

In fact, she is exquisitely lovely. How can Stasy
presume to slander her so brutally? Truly it
would bo difEcult to imagine anything more
modest, more innocent, than the slender creature
beside that broad-shouldered parvenu ! Her elbows
pressed close to her sides, her hands in her lap,
with drooping head she sits there deadly pale, and
evidently trembling with dread, as if awaiting
sentence of death.

" It is a crime to force a young girl thus," Roh-
ritz mutters between his set teeth. " I would not
for the world have Therfese's work to answer for.
Eool that I am !— fool !"

Every drop of blood in his veins boils; for a
moment it seems as if the sight of that pale, sad,
child-like face must rob him of all self-control, as
if thus at the last moment he must snatch her from
the glittering, terrible fate to which she has devoted
herself and bear her off in his arms, far, far away,
to a peaceful green country where in the dreamy
evening twilight stands a white castle in the shade

320 ERLACH COURT.

of a mighty linden, where the odour of the linden-
blossoms mingles on the evening breeze with the
fragrance of the large, pale roses which look up from
the dark verdure to the blue evening skies, where
the music of gently-rustling leaves blends sadly
with the sobbing ripple of the Save !

None but a maniac, however, would in our civ-
ilized century yield to such an impulse. Edgar
is by no means a maniac : he is even too well bred
to show the slightest outward sign of his agita-
tion. Calml}', his eye-glass in his eye, he stands
beside Suwarin and answers intelligibly and con-
nectedly his questions as to the new Viennese
ballet.

Stella Meineek has less self-control. While
Monsieur in the most insinuating minor tones is pre-
luding the momentous question, she is vainly trying
to convince herself of all that should force her to
receive his suit with joyful gratitude from the hand
of fate as a gift of God. She recalls the petty
poverty of the life that lies behind her, the endless,
monotonous misery of the future in galoches and
water-proof that lies before her, the hotel-bill that
is not paid, the golden brooch she has been obliged
to sell to buy two pair of new gloves, — everything,
in short, that is hopeless and comfortless in her life.
Oh, she will be sensible, will accept his offer.
There, — now he has put the great question, so dis-
tinctly, so clearly, that no pretence of misunder-

ROHRITZ DREAMS. 321

standing that naight delay the necessity for her reply
is possible. She catches her breath ; her heart beats
as if it would break ; black misty clouds float before
her eyes ; there is a sound in her ears as of the rush-
ing of a far-distant stream. She raises her head,
and is about to speak, when her eyes meet Edgar's ;
and if instant death were to be the consequence of
her refusal, her consent is no longer possible.

"You are very — very kind," she stammers, im-
ploringly, " Monsieur de Hauterive, but I cannot —
I cannot — forgive me, but — I gannot."

A. moment more, and she is sitting alone beneath
the camellia-bush.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

KOHRITZ DKEAMS.

" She has given him the sack."

"So it seems."

"A pretty affair! How pleased Ther^se will
be!"

The speakers are Capito and Edgar as they leave
the Eue de la Bruyfere, where the small hotel which
the Lipinskis have rented is situated, and walk
along under the blue-black heavens glittering with

322 EKLACH COURT.

millions of stars, to the more animated part of
Paris.

" Yes, Ther^se will be pleased," Edgar murmurs,
repeating Zino's words.

" It serves her right," Zino says, laughing. " I
must confess, Stella ought not to have let matters
go so far ; but I cannot help liking it in her that
she refused the fellow, l^atalie and I were look-
ing at her; it was immensely funny, — and yet so
sad. Ah, that poor, distressed, pale face ! After
it was all over, Natascha — she has lately grown
very intimate with Stella — called the girl into a
little private boudoir, where the poor cMld began
to sob bitterly. Natascha kissed her and com-
forted her, I brought her a cup of tea, and we
gradually soothed her."

" Disgusting creature, that Cabouat !" growls
Eohritz.

" In my opinion he is an awkward, common
snob," says Zino, " and if I am not mistaken he
will shortly prove himself to be so in the eyes of
every one. The affair cannot fail to be unpleasant,
since he has been boasting everywhere that he
intended to marry a most beautiful Austrian, a
friend of Madame de E.ohritz, a charming young
girl, very highly connected, and with no dowry."

" He is at perfect liberty to say that at the last
moment he changed his mind," Rohritz remarks,
casual]}-.

ROHRITZ DREAMS. 323

" I rather think he'll not content himself with
that, fa, you are coming with me to the masked
ball at the opera ?"

" l^ot exactly. I am going to bed."

"Indolent, degenerate race !" Zino jeers. " What
is to become of Paris, if this indifference to all
gaiety gets the upper hand ? I dreamed last night
of a white domino : I am going to look for it."
So saying, he leaves Edgar, and has walked on a
few steps, when he hears himself recalled,

"Capito! Capito!"

" What is it ?"

" Pray get me an invitation to the Fanes' ball ;
it is short notice, but "

" All ■ right : that's of no consequence at an
American's ball," Zino replies, and hurries on to
his- goal. The two men turn their steps in opposite
directions. Capito hastens back into the heart of
Paris, where the garish light from gas-jets and
lamps illuminates a night life as busy as that of
the day, and Rohritz passes along the Boulevard
Malesherbes, towards the Rue Villiers. Around
him all is quiet ; the few shops are closed ; an
occasional pedestrian passes, his coat-collar drawn
up over his ears, and humming some cafi-chaniant
air, or a carriage with coach-lamps sparkles along
the middle of the street like a huge firefly. The
street-cars are no longer running : the street is but
dimly lighted. The Dumas monument looms,

324 ERLACH COURT.

clumsy and awkward, on its huge pedestal in the
little square on the Place Malesherbes.

A thousand delightful thoughts course through
Eohritz's brain. "What a pleasant hour he has had
talking with Stella at the Lipinskis' ! At first she
was stiff towards him, but gradually, slowly, she
thawed into the loveliest, most child-like confi-
dence. He will wait no longer. At the Fanes'
ball, the next evening but one, he will confess all
to her. "What will she reply ? Blind as are all
mortals to the future, he looks back, and seeks
her answer in the past. Slowly, slowly, he passes
in review all the lovely summer days which he has
spent with her, to that evening when he carried
her in his arms through the drenching rain across
the slippery, muddy road. Again he sees the
M'indows of the little inn gleam yellow through
the gloom ; he hears Stella's soft word of thanks
as he puts her down on the threshold. The picture
changes. He sees a large, watery moon gleam-
ing through prismatic clouds, sees a little skiff
by the shore of a dark, swollen stream, and in
the skiff, at his — Edgar's — feet, kneels a slender
girl in a light dress, trembling with distress, her.
eyes imploringly raised to his, her delicate hands
clasping his arm.

He bends over her. " Stella, my poor, dear, un-
reasonable child !" He has lifted her, clasps her
in his arms, presses his lips upon her golden hair,

A SPRAINED ANKLE. 325

her eyes, her mouth With a sudden start he

rouses from his dream to find that he has run
against a passer-by, who is saying, crossly, '■'■Mais
crnnmmi done? Is not the pavement wide enough
for two ?" And, looking up, Edgar perceives that
he has already passed ten numbers beyond his
brother's hotel.

CHAPTER XXXV.

a sprained ankle.

"Mt dear Rohritz, —

" Accidents will occur in the best-regulated
families ! As I was escorting my cousin in a ride
yesterday, my horse slipped and fell on the ice,
and I sprained my ankle. "Was there ever any-
thing so stupid ! If it could be called a misfor-
tune for which one could be pitied ; but no, 'tis a
mere tiresome annoyance. Ridiculous ! And I
am engaged to dance the cobillon at the Fanes'
with Stella Meineck. Old fellow as I am, I had
really looked forward to this pleasure. Eh bien !
all the massage in the world will not enable me
to put my foot on the ground before the end of a
week. Have the kindness, as they say in your
native Vienna, to dance the cotillon in my stead
28

326 ERLACH COURT.

with our fair star. Send me a line to say that
you agree, or come and tell me so yourself.

" Is Therfese going to the ball ? Tell her from me
to be nice to Stella, and not to reckon it against her
that, in spite of a moment of indecision induced by
the distinguished eloquence of my very clever little
sister, she has behaved nobly and honestly through-
out, — in short, just as was to be expected of her.
Adieu ! Yours forever,

" Capito."

Such is the letter Edgar receives the second morn-
ing after the Lipinskis' soiree, while he is break-
fasting with his brother in the latter's smoking-
room.

" Zino ?" asks Edmund, looking up from his
' Figaro,' the reading of which is as much a part
of his breakfast as are the fragrant black coffee and
the yellowish Viennese bread with Norman butter.

" Read it," Edgar replies, as he scribbles with a
lead-pencil on a visiting-card, " I am quite at your
disposal," and hands it to the waiting servant.

" He's a fool !" the elder Rohritz remarks, hand-
ing back the note to his brother. " He knows
perfectly well that you do not dance."

" But one can talk through a cotillon," Edgar
says, with as much indifference as he can assume.

" You have consented ?"

" I could not do otherwise. Stella is a stranger
in Paris : it might be a source of annoyance to her

A SPRAINED ANKLE. 327

to have no partner for the cotillon. If at the last
moment she should find a more desirable partner
than myself, I am of course ready to retire. A pro-
pos, is Therfese going to the ball? Her cold is
better?"

"Yes."

« What kind of ball is it ?"

"A kind of public ball in a wealthy private
house," given by immensely wealthy Americans,
who know nobody, whom nobody knows, and
who arrange an entertainment from the Arabian
Nights, that they may be talked of, mentioned in
' Figaro,' and laughed at in society. Only three
weeks ago there was no end of ridicule heaped
upon Mrs. and Mr. Pane, unknown grandees from
California, when it was reported that they wished
to give a ball. Nobody dreamed of accepting
their invitation; but Mrs. Fane was clever enough
to induce a couple of women of undeniable
fashion to be her ' lady patronesses,' and when

the rumour spread that the Duchess of had

accepted there was a perfect rage for invitations.
Every one declared, ^Cela sera drSle!' Every one
is going. "With the best Parisian society there
will of course be found people whom one sees no-
where else. I wonder how many of the guests will
take sufficient notice of the host and hostess to
recognize them in the street the next day ? But it
will certainly be a beautiful ball, and an amusing

328 ERLACH COURT.

one. Stella is going with the Lipinskis, I believe.
I am curious to see how she will look in a ball-dress,
— charming, of course, but rather too thin."

In the course of the morning Edgar drops in
upon Capito, and finds him, in half-merry, half-
irritated mood, stretched upon a lounge which is
covered by a bearskin, the head of the animal
gnashing its teeth at the Prince's feet. Of course
Capito's rooms form a tasteful chaos of Oriental
rugs, Turkish embroideries, interesting bibelots,
and charming pictures. Throughout their arrange-
ment, from the antique silken hangings veined with
silver that cover the walls, to the low divans and
chairs, there runs a suggestion of effeminate. Ori-
ental luxury, in whimsical contrast with the pro-
verbially vigorous personality of the Prince, hard-
ened as it has been by every species of manly sport
and exercise. The atmosphere is heavy with the
fragrance of a gardenia shrub in full bloom, the
odour of cigarettes, and the aroma of some subtle
Indian perfume. A tall palm lifts its leaves to the
ceiling. Half a dozen French novels, two guitars,
and a mandolin lie within Zino's reach. He wears
a queer smoking-jacket of blue silk faced with
red, and his foot is swathed in towels.

" I'm delighted to see you ! Sit down. 'Tis
most annoying, this sprain of mine. But what do
you say to the pleasure to which you have fallen
heir?"

A SPRAINED ANKLE. 329

" In fact, I never dance," Rohritz makes reply,
" but, to oblige you " Edgar's eyes are wander-
ing bere and tbere through the room, and suddenly
rest upon a certain object.

" Ah, 'tis my Watteau that attracts you !" Cap-
ito observes. " A pretty little picture. I bought
it at the Hotel Drouot a while ago for a mere song,
— five thousand francs."

" Five thousand francs ! Ridiculous," says Roh-
ritz. " The picture is really lovely. But it was
not the "Watteau alone that attracted my attention,

but " He points to two or three pictures which

are turned with their faces to the wall.

"Ah! ah!" the Prince laughs. "You wish to
know what led to that prudential measure ? Well,
I have had a visit from ladies."

" Prom whom ?" Rohritz asks, absently.

" Unasked I should probably have told you, but
in view of such ill-bred curiosity I am mute," Zino
replies, still laughing.

" Hm ! — evidently a woman of character," Roh-
ritz observes, indifferently.

" Of course : 'tis the only kind with whom I
can endure of late to associate. If you but knew
how bored I was at the opera ball the other night !
I was made ill by the bad air. The feminine ele-
ment must always play a large part in my life ; but,
you see, of late I can tolerate none but the most
refined, the most distinguished of the species.
28*

330 ERLAGH COURT.

"We are strange creatures, we men of tlie world : in
the matter of cigars, wine, horses, we always re-
quire the best, while with regard to women we are
sometimes satisfied with what "

The arrival of a fresh caller, one of Capito's
sporting friends, interrupts these interesting reflec-
tions. Rohritz takes his leave.

The same day be is driving by chance through
the Rue d'Anjou, when his attention is attracted by
a slender, graceful, girlish figure hurrying along,
evidently anxious to reach her destination.

Is not that Stella ? He leans out of the carriage
window, but it is dark, and she is closely veiled.
And yet he could swear that it is she. She van-
ishes in the Hotel , in the house where he

called upon Zino Capito this very day.

For one brief moment all the evil that Stasy
said of Stella confuses his brain ; then he com-
presses his lips : he cannot believe evil of her. A
malicious chance has maligned her. She must
have a double in Paris.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

LOST AGAIN.

How Stella has looked forward to this ball ! how
carefully and bravely she has cleared away all the
obstacles which seemed at first to stand in the way

LOST AGAIN. 331

of her pleasure ! how eagerly and industriously
she has gathered together her little store of orna-
ments, has tastefully renovated her old Venetian
hall- dress! how she has exulted over Zino's note,
in which with kindly courtesy he has begged her
to accord to his frieud Edgar Rohritz the pleasure
he is obliged to deny himself! And now — now the
evening has come ; her ball-dress lies spread out
on the Bofa of the small drawing-room at the ' Three
Negroes;' but Stella is lying on her bed in her
little bedroom, in the dark, sobbing bitterly. For
the second time she has lost the porte-bonheur which
her dying father put on her arm three — nearly four
years before, and which was to bring her happiness.
She noticed only yesterday that the little chain
which she had had attached to it for safety was
broken, but the clasp seemed so strong that she
postponed taking it to be repaired, and to-day as
she was coming home, about five o'clock, fresh and
gay, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with
the excitement of anticipation, and laden with all
sorts of packages, she perceived that her brace-
let was gone. In absolute terror, she went from
shop to shop, wherever she had made a purchase,
always with the same imploring question on her
lips as to whether they had not found a little porte-
bonheur with a pendant of rock-crystal containing
a four-leaved clover, — a silly, inexpensive trifle,
of no value to any one save herself. But in vain !

332 ERLACH COURT.

Almost beside herself, she finally returned to her
home, and told her mother of her bitter distress ;
but the Baroness only shrugged her shoulders at
her childish superstition, and went on writing with
extraordinary industry. She has lately determined
to edit an abstract of her work on ' Woman's Part
in the Development of Civilization,' for a book-
agent with whom "she is in communication, and
who undertakes to sell unsalable literature. It seems
that the abstract will fill several volumes ! In the
midst of Stella's distress, the Baroness begins to
bewail to her daughter her own immense super-
abundance of ideas, which makes it almost impos-,
sible for her to express herself briefly. And so
Stella, after she has hearkened to the end of her
mother's lament, slips away with tired, heavy feet,
and a still heavier heart, to her bedroom, and there
sobs on the pillow of her narrow iron bedstead as
if her heart would break.

There comes a knock at the door.

" Who is it ?" she asks, half rising, and wiping
her eyes.

" Me !" replies a kindly nasal voice, a voice typi-
cal of the Parisian servant. Stella recognizes it as
that of the chambermaid. '

" Come in, Justine. What do you want?"

" Two bouquets have come for Mademoiselle, —
two splendid bouquets. Ah, it is dark here;
Mademoiselle has been taking a little rest, so as to

LOST AGAIN. 333

be fresh for the ball ; but it is nine o'clock. Made-
moiselle ought to begin to dress : it is always best
to be in time. Shall I light a candle ?"

"If you please, Justine."

The maid lights the candles.

" Ah !" she exclaims in dismay when she sees
Stella's sad, swollen face, " Mademoiselle is in dis-
tress ! Good heavens ! what has happened ? Has
Mademoiselle had bad news ? — some one dead
whom she loves ?"

Any German maid at sight of the girl's discon-
solate face would have suspected some love-compli-
cation ; the French servant would never think of
anything of the kind in connection with a respect-
able young lady.

"1^0, Justine, but I have lost a porte-bonheur, —
a porte-bonheur that my father gave me a little while
before he died, — and it is sure to mean some mis-
fortune. I know something dreadful will happen
to me at the ball. I would rather stay at home.
But there would be no use in that : my fate will
find me wherever I am : it is impossible to hide
from it."

" Ah," sighs Justine, " I am so sorry for Made-
moiselle! But Mademoiselle must not take the
matter so to heart : the porte-bonheur will be found ;
nothing is lost in Paris. We will apply to the
police-superintendent, and the porte-bonheur wiW be
found. Ah, Mademoiselle would not believe how

334 ERLACH COURT.

many lost articles I have had brought back to me !
Will not Mademoiselle take a look at the bou-
quets ?" And the Parisian maid whips off the cotton
wool and silver-paper that have enveloped the
flowers. " Dieu! que c'est beau!" cries Justine, her
brown, good-humoured face beaming with delight
beneath the frill of her white cap. ''Two cards
came with the flowers; there "

Stella grasps the cards. The bouquet of garde-
nias and fantastic orchids comes from Zino; the
other, of half-opened, softly-blushing Malmaison
roses and snowdrops, is Edgar's gift.

In their arch-loveliness, carelessly tied together,
the floM'ers look as if they had come together in the
cold winter, to whisper of the delights of spring and
summer, — of the time when earth and sunshine,
now parted by a bitter feud, shall meet again with
warm, loving kisses of reconciliation.

Zino's orchids and gardenias lie neglected on the
cold gray marble top of a corner table; with a
dreamy smile, in the midst of her tears, Stella buries
her face among the roses, which remind her of
Erlach Court.

" Mademoiselle will find her porte-bonheur again ;
I am sure of it; I have a presentiment," Justine
says, soothingly. "But now Mademoiselle must
begin to make herself beautiful. Madame has
given me express permission to help her."

*******

LOST AGAIN. 335

At this same hour a certain bustle reigns in the
dressing-room of the Princess Oblonsky. Costly
jewelry, barbaric but characteristically Eussian in
design and setting, gleams from the dark velvet
lining of various half-opened cases in the light of
numberless candles. In a faded sky-blue dressing-
gown trimmed with yellow woollen lace, Stasy is
standing beside a workwoman from "Worth's, who
is busy fastening large solitaires upon the Princess's
ball-dress. The air is heavy and oppressive with
the odour of veloutine, hot iron, burnt hair, and
costly, forced hot-house flowers. Monsieur Au-
guste, the hair-dresser, has just left the room.
Beneath his hands the head of the Princess has
become a masterpiece of artistic simplicity. In-
stead of the conventional feathers, large, gleaming
diamond stars crown the beautiful woman's brow.
She is standing before a tall mirror, her shoulders
bare, her magnificent arras hanging by her sides,
in the passive attitude of the great lady who, with-
out stirring herself, is to be dressed by her atten-
dants. Her maid is kneeling behind her, with her
mouth full of pins, busied in imparting to the
long trailing muslin and lace petticoat the due
amount of imposing efiect.

Although half a dozen candles are burning in
the candelabra on each side of the mirror, although
the entire apartment is illuminated by the light of
at least fifty other candles, a second maid, and

336 ERLACH COURT.

Eraulein von Fulirwesen, now quite domesticated
in the Princess's household, are standing behind
the Princess, each with a candle, in testimony of
their sympathy with the maid at work upon the
petticoat.

Yes, Sophie Oblonsky is going to the Eanes'
ball : she knows that Edgar will be there.

At' last every diamond is fastened upon the ball-
dress, among its trimming of white ostrich-feathers.
The task now is to slip the robe over the Princess's
head without grazing her hair even with a touch
as light as that of a butterfly's wing. This is the
true test of the dressing-maid's art. The girl lifts
Worth's masterpiece high, high in the air : the feat
is successfully accomplished. In all Paris to-night
there is no more beautiful woman than the Princess
Oblonsky in her draperies of brocade shot with
silver, the diamond riviere on her neck, and the
diamond stars in her hair. The Fuhrwesen kneels
before her in adoration to express her enthusiasm,
and Stasy exclaims, —

" Tou are ravishing ! Do you know what I said
in Cologne to little Stella, who, as I told you, was
so desperately in love with Edgar Rohritz ? ' Be-
side Sonja the beauty of other women vanishes :
when she appears, we ordinary women cease to
exist.' "

" Exaggerated nonsense, my dear !" Sonja says,
smiling graciously, and lightly touching her friend's

TSE FANES' BALL. 337

cheek with her lace handkerchief. "But now
hurry and make yourself beautiful."

" Yes, I am going. I really cannot tell you how
eagerly I am looking forward to this ball. I feel
like a child again."

" So I see," Sonja rallies her. " Make haste and
dress ; when you are ready I will put the diamond
pins in your hair, myself." And when Stasy has
left the room the Princess says, turning to Frau-
lein von Fuhrwesen, " I only hope Anastasia will
enjoy herself : it is solely for her sake that I have
been persuaded to go to this ball ; I would far rather
stay at home, my dear Fuhrwesen, and have you
play me selections from Wagner."

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE fanes' ball.

Tbs, the Fanes' ball is a splendid ball, one of the
most beautiful balls of the season, and fulfils every
one's expectations. ITot one of the artistic effects
that puzzle newspaper-reporters and delight the
public is lacking, — neither fountains of eau-de-
cologne, nor tables of flowers upon which blocks
of ice gleam from among nodding ferns, nor
mirrors and chandeliers hung with wreaths of
p w 29

338 ERLAGH COURT.

roses, nor the legendary grape-vine with colossal
grapes. The crown of all, however, is the con-
servatory, in which, among orange-trees and mag-
nolias in full bloom, gleam mandarin-trees full of
bright golden fruit. There are lovely, secluded
nooks in this Paradise, where has been conjured
up in the unfriendly I^orthern winter all the luxu-
riance of Southern vegetation. Large mirrors here
and there prevent what might else be the monot-
ony of the scene.

The company is rather mixed. It almost pro-
duces the impression of the appearance at a first-
class theatre of a troop of provincial actors, with
here and there a couple of stars, — stars who
scarcely condescend to play their parts. Most of
the guests do not recognize the host ; and those
who suspect his presence in the serious little man
in a huge white tie and with a bald head, whom
they took at first for the master of ceremonies, avoid
him. His entire occupation consists in gliding about
with an unhappy face in the darkest corners, novv
and then timidly requesting some one of the guests
to look at his last Meissonier. "When the guest
complies with the request and accompanies him to
view the Meissonier, Mr. Fane always replies to
the praise accorded to the picture in the same
words : "I paid three hundred thousand francs for
it. Do you think Meissoniers will increase in
value ?"

THE FANES' BALL. 339

The hostess is more imposing in appearance than
her bald-headed spouse. Her gown comes from
Felix, and is trimmed with sunflowers as big as
dinner-plates, — which has a comical effect. The-
rmae Eohritz shakes her head, and whispers to a
friend, " How that good Mrs. Fane must have
offended Felix, to induce him to take such a cruel
revenge !" But except for her gown, and the fact
that she cannot finish a single sentence without in-
troducing the name of some duke or duchess, there
is nothing particularly ridiculous about her.

Yet, criticise the entertainment and its authors
as you m.iy, one and all must confess that rarely
has there been such an opportunity to admire so
great a number of beautiful women, and that the
most beautiful of all, the queen of the evening, is
the Princess Oblonsky. Anywhere else it would
excite surprise to find her among so many women
of unblemished reputation; but it is no greater
wonder to meet her here than at a public ball. Any-
where else people would probably stand aloof from
her; here they approach her curiously, as they
would some theatric star whom they might meet
at a picnic in an inn ball-room.

Perhaps her beauty would not be so completely
victorious over that of her sister women were she
not the only guest who has bestowed great pains
on her toilette. All the other feminine guests who
make any pretensions to distinction seem to have

340 ERLACH COUHT.

entered into an agreement to be as shabby as pos-
sible. As it would be hopeless to attempt to rival
the Eane millions, they choose at least to prove
that they despise them.

One of the shabbiest and most rumpled among
many dowdy gowns is that worn by Therfese
Rohritz, who, pretty woman as she is, looks down
with evident satisfaction upon her faded cr§pe de
Chine draperies, remarking, with a laugh, that she
had almost danced it off last summer at the balls
at the casino at Trouville.

Her husband is not quite pleased with such evi-
dent neglect of her dress on his wife's part, nor does
he at all admire Ther^se's careless way of looking
about her through her eye-glass and laughing and
criticising. He must always be too good an Aus-
trian to be reconciled to what is called chic in Paris.
There is the same difference between his Austrian
arrogance and Parisian arrogance that there is
between pride and impertinence. He thinks it all
right to hold aloof from a parvenu, to avoid his
house and his acquaintance; but to go to the
house of the parvenu, to be entertained in his
apartments, to eat his ices and drink his champagne,
to pluck the flowers from his walls, and in return
to ignore himself and to ridicule his entertainment,
he does not think right. But whenever he ex-
presses his sentiments upon this point to his wife,
Ther^se answers him, half in German, half in

WANES' BALL. 341

French, ""^■■PRTfe quite right ; but what would
you have ? 'tis the fashion."

The only person at the ball who is honestly
ashamed of her modest toilette is Stella, and this
perhaps because the first object that her eyes en-
countered when she appeared with the Lipinskis,
a little after eleven, was the Oblonsky in all her
brilliant beauty and faultless elegance. By her

side, her white feather fan on his knee, sits

Edgar von Rohritz. Stella's heart stands still ;
ah, yes, now she knows why she has lost her
bracelet. All the tender, child-like dreams that
stole smiling upon her soul at sight of his flowers
die at once, and Stasy's words at the Cologne
railway-station resound in her ears : " Yes, it is
ridiculous to think of rivalling the Princess : when
she appears we ordinary women cease to exist."

" Yes, it is ridiculous to think of rivalling the
Princess," Stella repeats to herself, " particularly
for such a stupid, awkward, insignificant thing as
I am."

She cannot take her eyes off the beautiful
woman. How she smiles upon him, bestowing
her attention upon him alone, while a crowd of
Parisian dandies throng about her, waiting for an
opportunity to claim a word. There is no doubt
in Stella's mind that he is reconciled with Sophie
Oblonsky.

A man will forgive a very beautiful woman
29*

342 ERLAGH Ca^B'T.

everything, even the evil whic^ii^JiailrSeard of
her, nay, he may find a mysterious charm in her
transgressions, if she takes pains to win hie favour
with intelligence, prudence, and the necessary' de-
gree of reserve. This piece of wisdom Stella has
gained from the French romances of which she
has read extracts out of pure ennui as they appear
daily in ' Figaro' and the ' Gaulois.'

That a man must find it difficult to shake off an
old friend who approaches him with imploring hu-
mility, that he cannot well refuse when she re-
quests him to hring her an ice, and that should she
hand him her fan he cannot possibly lay it down
on a table with a proudly forbidding air and then
take his leave with a formal bow, — all this Stella
never takes into consideration ; and this is why she
is so wretchedly unhappy as she seats herself be-
side Natalie Lipinski on a plush ottoman, near a
table of fiowers.

A young Eussian, a friend of the Lipinskis,
begs itfatalie for a waltz, and she takes his arm
and goes into the adjoining dancing-room. Stella
is left alone, beside old Madame Lipinski, who is
just getting ready to relate something extremely
entertaining about the Emperor Nicholas, when
Rohritz suddenly perceives Stella. "With a smiling
remark he hands the white feather fan to a gen-
tleman standing beside him, and hastens towards
the young girl, paying his respects, of course, first

*ANES' BALL. 343

to the eiaWiBpip^and then to her. If he has
reckoned upon her old-time child-like, confiding
smile, he is disappointed. She answers him stiffly,
and thanks him for his flowers without cordiality.
"How pale she looks!" he says to himself. "What
can be the matter with her ? Can she have cried
her eyes out because she must dance the cotillon
to-night with me instead of with Zino Capito ?"

" 'Tis very hard that poor Capito should be dis-
abled just at this time," he remarks.

" Yes, because the burden of dancing the cotil-
lon with me devolves upon you," Stella replies,
betraying, for the first time since he has known
her, a degree of sensitiveness that is almost ridicu-
lous. " I am, of course, perfectly ready to release
you from the obligation."

" That would be a readiness to rob me of a
pleasure to which I had looked forward eagerly,"
he replies, gravely.

"You had looked forward to it?— really?" Stella
asks, with genuine surprise in her eyes. " Really ?"
And she looks down with a shake of the head at
her poor white dress, at her entire toilette, in which
nothing is absolutely modern save the long gloves
that reach to her shoulders.

It is rather remarkable that these gloves are the
only thing about her with which Edgar Rohritz
finds fault.

" "What charming dimples that Swedish kid must

344 EEL ACS C(S^,

hide!" he says to himself. A seat beside Stella
hitherto occupied by an Englishwoman with very
sharp red elbows is vacated. Edgar takes posses-
sion of it.

" Yes, I had looked forward to it," he says,
" although I do not dance, and you will conse-
quently be obliged to talk with me through the
cotillon."

A pause ensues. She looks down ; involuntarily
he does the same. His eyes rest upon her foot that
peeps out beneath the hem of her ball-dress. He
recalls how once, on a meadow beneath a spread-
ing oak, kneeling before her he had held that foot
in his hands. "What a charming, soft, warm little
foot it was ! She suddenly perceives that he is
looking at it ; she withdraws it hastily, and with a
half-wayward, half-distressed air pulls her skirt
farther over her knee. Of course he does not
smile, but he wants to. And he could reproach
this girl for accidentally in the outline of her feat-
ures recalling a woman who from all that he could
discover concerning her was more to be pitied than
blamed. It was odious, cruel; more than that, it
was stupid !

Leaning towards her, and speaking more softly
than before, he says, gravely, " And I hope that
during the cotillon you will confide to me, as an
old friend, why you look so sad to-night."

Any other girl would have understood that these

TUEl^ANES' BALL. 345

words froin^ a man of Edgar's great reserve of
character were to pave the way for a declaration.

Stella understands nothing of the kind.

" Why I am so sad ?" she replies, simply. " Be-
cause "

At this moment JiTatalie approaches on the arm
of a blonde young man.

" Count Kasin wishes to be presented to you,
Stella," she says.

The young man bows, and begs for a dance.
Stella goes off upon his arm, not because she has
any desire to dance, but because it would be dis-
graceful for a young girl to sit through an entire
ball.

" "Who is that young lady ?" asks an Englishman
of Edgar's acquaintance.

" She is an Austrian, — Baroness Stella Meineck."

" Strange how like she is to that famous Greuze
in the Louvre, — ' La Cruche cassee' ! She is charm-
ing."

The words were uttered without any thought of
3vil, but nevertheless Edgar feels for a moment as
if he would like to throttle the Hon. Mr. Harris.

And why is he suddenly reminded of the girl
ivhom he had seen this afternoon in the twilight
lurrying along the street to vanish in the house
(Vhere Zino has his apartments? How very like
ihe was to Stella !

iti :t' * * * * *

346 ERLACB COV^i'.

An hour has passed. Stella has walked through
two quadrilles, has walked and polked with various
partners, as well as she could, — that is, conscien-
tiously and badly, just as she learned from a dancing-
master eight years before, and, try as she may, she
is conscious that she never shall take any real
pleasure in this hopping and jumping about, l^ow,
when the rest are just beginning fairly to enjoy the
ball, she is tired, — quite tired. With her last part-
ner, a good-humoured, gentlemanly young Austrian
diplomatist, she has become so dizzy that in the
midst of the dance she has begged to be taken
back to Madame Lipinski. But Madame Lipinski
has left her place ; some one says she has gone
to the conservatory; and thither Stella and her
partner betake themselves.

They do not find Madame Lipinski, but Stella
feels decidedly better. The green, fragrant twi-
light of the conservatory has a soothing effect upon
her nerves. The air is cool, compared with that of
the ball-room ; the roughened surface of the mosaic
floor affords a pleasant change after the slippery
smoothness of the dancing-room. Stella sinks
wearily into an inviting low chair.

"Are balls always so terribly fatiguing?" she
asks her companion, with her usual frankness.

He bows.

" I did not mean to be rude," she hastily explains,
" but you must confess that it is much pleasanter to

THE FANES' BALL. 347

talk comfortably here than to whirl about in there,"
— pointing with her fan in the direction of the
dancing-room.

The attache, quite propitiated, takes his place
upon a low seat beside her, and prepares for a
sentimental flirtation. To his great surprise, Stella
seems to have as little enthusiasm for flirting as
for dancing.

"A charming spot!" he begins. "The fra-
grance of these orange-blossoms reminds me of
Nice, You have been at Nice, Baroness ?"

" I have been everywhere, from Madrid to Con-
stantinople," Stella sighs ; " and I wish I were at
home. My head aches so !" — passing her hand
wearily across her brow.

" Shall I get you an ice, or a glass of lemonade ?"
he asks, good-naturedly.

"I should be much obliged to you," Stella replies.

" Hm ! it does not look as if she were very
anxious for a tite-d-itte with me," he thinks, as he
leaves her.

He has gone : she is alone among the fragrant
flowers and the larged-leaved plants. Softened,
but distinctly audible, the sound of hopping and
gliding feet reaches her ears, while, now sadly
caressing and anon merrily careless, the strains
of a Strauss waltz float on the air. For a while
she sits quite wearily, with half-closed eyes, think-
ing of nothing save " I hope the attache will stay

348 ERLACH COURT.

away a long time !" Mingling softly and tenderly
with the music she hears the dreamy murmur of a
miniature fountain. Why is she suddenly reminded
of the melancholy rush of the Save, of the little
canoe hy the edge of the black water ? Suddenly
she hears voices in her vicinity, and, raising her
eyes to a tall, broad mirror opposite, she beholds,
framed in by the gold-embroidered hangings of a
heavy portiere, a striking picture, — the Princess
Oblonsky and Edgar. They are in a little boudoir
separated from tiie conservatory by an open door.
Without stirring, Stella watches the pair in the
treacherous mirror. Edgar sits in a low arm-chair,
his elbow on his knee, his head propped on his
hand, and the Princess is opposite him. How
wonderfully beautiful she is ! — beautiful although
she is just brushing away a tear.

"It always makes me so ugly to cry!" Stella
thinks, not without bitterness.

The Princess's gloves and fan lie beside her; her
arms are bare. With an expression of intense
melancholy, — an expression not only apparent in
her face and in the listless droop of her arms, but
also seeming to be shared by every fold of her
dress, — she leans back among the soft-hued, rose-
coloured and gray satin cushions of a small lounge.

" Strange, that we should have met at last ! —
at last !" she sighs. Stella cannot distinguish his
reply, but she distinctly hears the Princess say,

THE FANES' BALL. 349

Do you remember that waltz? How often its
)tes have floated towards us upon the breath of
e roses in the long afternoons at Baden ! How

ng a time has passed since then ! How long "

A black mist rises before Stella's eyes. She puts
) her hands to her ears, and, thrilling from head
foot, springs up and hurries away, — anywhere,
lywhere, — only away from this spot, — far away !

At the other end of the conservatory she is doing
sr best to regain her composure and to keep back
e tears, when suddenly she hears a light manly
3ad near her and the clinking of glasses.
" Ah ! 'tis Binsky : he has found me," Stella
inks, most unjustly provoked with the good-
imoured attache.

" I really believe, Baroness, you are playing
de-and-seek with me," the young diplomatist ad-
esses her in a tone of mild reproof
There is nothing for it but to turn round. Beside
e attache, in all the majestic gravity of his kind,
mds a lackey with a salver, from which she takes
jlass of lemonade.

After the servant has withdrawn. Count Binsky
ja, with a laugh, " I have been looking for you,
ironess, in every corner of the conservatory. I
1st confess to having made interesting discov-
es during my wanderings. Look here," — and he
3WS her a white ostrich-feather fan with yellow

30

350 EBLACH COURT.

tortoise-shell sticks broken in two, — " I found this
relic in the pretty little boudoir near the place
where I left you. Now, did you ever see anything
so mutely eloquent as this broken fan ? — the tragic
culmination of a highly dramatic scene ! I should
like to know what lady had the desperate energy
to reduce this exquisite trifle to such a state."

" Perhaps there is a monogram on the fan," says
Stella, her pale face suddenly becoming animated.
" Look and see."

" To be sure. I did not think of that," the
young man replies, examining the fan. " ' S. 0.'
beneath a coronet."

" Sophie Oblonsky," says Stella.

" Of course, — the Oblonsky." The attache is
seized with a fit of merriment on the instant.
" The Oblonsky, — the woman who had an afiair
with Rohritz long ago. She seemed to me this
evening to have a strong desire to throw her chains
about him afresh, but" — with a significant glance
at the fan — " Rohritz evidently had no inclination
to gratify her. Hm! she must have been in a
bad humour, — the worthy Princess !" The attache
laughs softly to himself, then suddenly assumes a
grave, composed air, remembering that he is with
a young girl, before whom such things as he has
alluded to should be forbidden subjects and his
merriment suppressed. He glances at Stella. No
need to worry himself; she does not look in the

FOUND AT LAST. 35I

least horrified : her white teeth just show between
der red lips, merry dimples play about the corners
of her mouth, and her eyes sparkle like black stars.

She really does not understand how five min-
utes ago she could have wished the poor attache
at the iNorth Pole. She now thinks him extremely
amusing and amiable. She feels so well, too, — so
very well. Is it possible that there may be no evil
omen for her in the loss of her bracelet ? N'ever-
theless, try as she may to hope that it may be
averted, a shiver of anxiety thrills her at the recol-
lection of her lost amulet.

" If the ball were only over !" she thinks.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

rOUND AT LAST.

The hour of rest before the cotillon has come;
the dancing-room is almost empty. Only a few
gentlemen are selecting the places which they wish
reserved for themselves and their partners, and a
couple of lackeys are clearing away from this battle-
field of pleasure the trophies left behind, of late
engagements, shreds of tulle and tarlatan, artificial
and natural flowers, here and there a torn glove,
etc. Edgar tells himself that his hour has come,

352 ERLACH COURT.

the hour when he may indemnify himself for ennui
hitherto so heroically endured. Meanwhile, he
goes to the buffet to refresh himself with a glass
of iced champagne, and in hopes of finding Stella.

The supper-room is in the story below the ball-
room. The different stories are connected by an
extremely picturesque staircase, decorated with
gorgeous exotics and ending in a vestibule, or
rather an entrance-ball, hung round with antique
Elemish draperies.

The buffet is magnificent, and the guests who are
laying siege to it, especially the more distinguished
among them, are conducting themselves after a very
ill bred fashion. Edgar perceives that several of
them have taken rather too much of Mr. Fane's
fine Cliquot.

He looks around in vain for Stella. In one cor-
ner he observes the OWonsky, with bright eyes and
sweet smiles, surrounded by a throng of languish-
ing adorers ; farther on, Stasy, in pale blue, with
rose-buds and diamond pins in her hair, in a state
of bliss because an American diplomatist is hold-
ing her gloves and a Russian prince her fan ; he
sees Ther^se taking some bonbons for the children.
Stella is nowhere visible. He thinks the cham-
pagne poor, doing it great injustice, and, irritated,
goes to the smoking-room to enjoy a cigar. The
first man whom he sees in the large room is Mon-
sieur de Hauterive. His face is very red, and he

FOUND AT LAST. 353

is relating something which must be very amusing,
for he laughs loudly while he talks. The men
standing around him do not seem to enjoy his
narrative as much as he does himself. A few
offensive words reach Edgar's ears :

" La Oruche cassie — Stella Meineck — an Austrian
— these Viennese girls — mistress of Prince Capito !
I have it all from the Princess Oblonsky !"

" Would you have the kindness to repeat to me
what you have just been telling these gentlemen ?"
Eohritz says, approaching the group and with diffi-
culty suppressing manifestation of his anger.

" I really do not know, monsieur, by what right
you interfere in a conversation about what does
not concern you," Cabouat manages to reply,
speaking thickly. " May I ask who "

Edgar hands him his card. The other gentlemen
are about to withdraw, but Edgar says, " What I
have to say to Monsieur de Hauterive all are
welcome to hear : the more witnesses I have the
better I shall be pleased. I wish to call him to
account for a slander, as vile as it is absurd, which
he has dared to repeat, with regard to a young
lady, an intimate friend of ray family. You said,
monsieur "

" I said what every one knows, what ladies of
the highest rank will confirm, what the Princess
Oblonsky has long been aware of, and the proof
of which I obtained to-day."'

X 30*

354 ERLACH COURT.

" Might I beg to know in what this said proof
consists ?" Edgar asks, contemptuously.

Monsieur de Hauterive, with an evil smile upon
his puffy red lips, draws from his vest-pocket a
golden chain to which is attached a crystal locket
containing a four-leaved clover.

With a hasty movement Edgar takes the trinket
from him, and searches for the star engraved upon
the crystal.

" You know the bracelet?" asks de Hauterive.

" Yes," says Edgar.

" I found it on the staircase of Prince Capito's
lodgings. "When I rang the Prince's bell his ser-
vant informed me that the Prince was not at home.
As I was perfectly aware that he had been con-
fined to a lounge for two days with a sprained
ankle, I naturally supposed that the Prince had
special reasons for wishing to receive no one. What
conclusion do you draw ?"

Edgar's tongue is very dry in his mouth, but he
instantly rejoins, " My conclusion is that Mademoi-
selle de Meineck, visiting a friend, a lady, who, as
I happen to know, has lodgings in that house, lost
her bracelet on the landing, and that Prince Capito
has no desire to receive Monsieur de Hauterive."

" Your judgment strikes me as kind, rather than
acute," says Monsieur de Hauterive. " Will you
kindly tell me the name of the friend lodging in
Number — ?" he adds, with a sneer.

FOUND AT LAST. 365

Edgar is silent.

" I thought so !" exclaims de Hauterive. " And
pou would debar me from mentioning what any

unprejudiced person must admit, that " But

before he can utter another word his cheek burns
Prom a blow from Edgar's open palm.

The next moment Rohritz leaves the smoking-
room, and goes out into the vestibule, longing for
solitude and fresh air.

There, among the antique hangings, the Aus-
tralian ferns, and the Italian magnolias, among the
bronze, white-toothed negroes that bear aloft lamps
with ground-glass shades shaped like huge flower-
cups, he stands, the little bracelet in his hand. He
feels stunned; red and blue sparks dance before
his eyes, and his throat seems choked. He would
fain groan aloud, or dash his head against the wall,
so great is his distress. He cannot believe it ; and
yet all a lover's jealous distrust assails him. He is
perfectly aware that his defence of Stella was piti-
ably weak, his invention of a female friend lodging
in lif umber — clumsy enough; he knows that
everything combines to accuse her.

Has he been deceived for the second time in
his life ? Whom can he ever trust, if those grave,
dark, child-like eyes have been false? And sud-
denly in the midst of his torment he is possessed
by overwhelming pity.

" Poor child ! poor child !" he says to himself.

356 ERLACH COURT.

" Neglected, dragged about the world, without any
one to care for her, fatherless, and the same as
motherless!" Should he judge her ? ITo, he will
defend her, hide her fault, protect her from the
whole world. But a stern voice within asks,
" What protection do you mean ? Will you — dare
you offer her the only thing that can save her from
the world, — your hand?" He is tortured. "Ho, he
cannot. And yet how desperately he loves her!
Why did he not take her in his arms when, she
lay at his feet in the little skiff, and shield her
next his heart forever? He must see her; an irre-
sistible longing seizes him ; yes, he must see her,
— insult her, mistreat her, it may be, — but clasp
her in his arms though he should kill her.

" Why are you standing here, like Othello with
Desdemona's handkerchief?" he suddenly hears his
brother ask, close beside him.

He starts, closes his fingers over the bracelet,
and tries to assume an indifferent air.

"Where is Stella?" inquires Therfese, who is
with her husband.

" How should I know ?" asks Edgar.

" But some one must know ! some one must find
her !" she exclaims, in a very bad humour. " The
Lipinskis have gone home, and have placed her in
my charge, and I must wait until she is found be-
fore we too can go home. Ah, do you want to
dance the cotillon with her ? Pray find her, and

FOUND AT LAST. 357

IS soon as you have done so we must go home, —
instantly ! I do not want to stay another mo-
ment." And, in a state of evident nervous agita-
tion, Th^rfese suddenly turns to her husband, and
continues, " 1 cannot imagine, Edmund, how you
Eould bring me to this ball !"

" That is a little too much !" her husband ex-
claims, angrily. " Had I the faintest desire to
come to this ball ? Did I not try for two long
weeks to dissuade you from coming ? But you
had one replj' for all my objections : ' Marie de
Sthle is going too.' Since you are so determined
never, under any circumstances, to blame yourself,
blame the Duchess de Stele, not me."

" Marie de Stele could not possibly know that a
Russian diplomatist would bring that woman to this
ball and present her as his wife."

" Neither could I," rejoins her husband.

"A man ought to know such things," Therfese
retorts ; " but you never know anything that every-
body else does not know, you never have an intui-
tion ; although you have been away from your own
country for fifteen years, you are the very same
simple-minded Austrian that you always were."

" And I am proud of it !" Edmund ejaculates,
angrily.

" Be as proud as you please, for all I care," says
Therfese, as, at once angry and exhausted, she sinks
into a leathern arm-chair. " But now, for heaven's

358 ERLACH COURT.

sake, find Stella Meineck, that we may get away at
last."

Edgar has already departed in search of her. He
passes through the long suite of rooms, for the most
part empty hecause all the guests are in the dining-
rooms at present.

" They neither of them know anything yet," he
says to himself, bitterly, and his heart beats wildly
as he thinks, " If she can only explain it all !"

He searches for a while in vain. At last he
enters the conservatory. A low sound of sobbing,
reminding one of some wounded animal who has
crept into some hiding-place to die, falls upon his
ear. He hurries on. There, in the same little
boudoir where he had lately been with the Princess
Oblonsky, Stella is cowering on a divan in the
darkest corner, her face hidden in her hands, her
whole frame convulsed with sobs.

"Baroness Stella!" he says, advancing. She
does not hear him. " Stella !" he says, more loudly,
laying his hand on her arm. She starts, drops her
hands in her lap, and gazes at him with such terri-
ble despair in her eyes that for an instant he trem-
bles for her reason. He forgets everything, — all
that has been tormenting him; his soul is filled
only with anxiety for her. " What is the matter ?
what distresses you ?" he asks.

" I cannot tell it," she replies, in a voice so
hoarse, so agonized, that he hardly knows it for

FOUND AT LAST. 359

hers. " It is something horrible, — disgraceful ! It
was in the dining-room — I was sitting rather alone,
when I heard two gentlemen talking. I caught my
own name, and then — and then — I vpould not be-
lieve it; I thought I had not heard aright — then the
gentlemen passed me, and one of them looked at me
and laughed, and then — and then — I saw an Eng-
lish girl whom I knew at the Britannia, in Venice
— she was with her mother, and she came up to mo
and held out her hand with a smile, but her mother
pulled her back, — I saw her, — and she turned

away. And then came Stasy " Her eyes

encounter Rohritz's, " Ah ! you have heard it
too !" She moans and puts her hands up to her
throbbing temples. Her cheeks are scarlet; she
is half dead with shame and horror. " You too !"
she repeats. " I knew that something would hap-
pen to me at this ball when I found I had lost my
bracelet again, but I never — never thought it
would be so horrible as this ! Oh, papa, papa, I
only hope you did not hear, — did not see; you
could not rest peacefully in your grave." And
again she buries her face in her hands and sobs.

A short pause ensues.

"She is innocent; of course she is innocent,"
an inward voice exclaims exultantly, and Robritz
is overwhelmed with remorse for having doubted
her for an instant. He would fain fall down at
her feet and kiss the hem of her dress.

360 ERLACH COURT.

" Be .comforted : your bracelet is found," lie
whispers, softly. " Here it is !"

She snatches it from him. " Ah, where did you
find it ?" she asks, eagerly, her eyes lighting up in
spite of her distress.

" I did not find it. Monsieur de Hauterive found
it on the first landing of the staircase at N'umber
— , Rue d'Anjou," he says, speaking with difficulty.

" Ah, I might have known ! I must have lost it
when I went to see my poor aunt Correze, and
when I dropped my bundles on the stairs !" She is
not in the least embarrassed. She evidently does
not even know that Zino's lodgings are in the Rue
d'Anjou.

" Your aunt Correze?" asks Rohritz.

" Do you not know about my aunt Correze ?"
she stammers.

"Yes, I know who she is."

" She was very unhappy in her first marriage,"
Stella goes on, now in extreme confusion, " very un-
happy, and — and — she did not do as she ought ; but
she married Correze four years ago, — Corrfeze, who
abused her, and who is now giving concerts in
America. She recognized me in the street from a
photograph of me which papa sent her from Venice.
She was so sweet to me, and yet so sad and shy,
and she had her little daughter with her, a beautiful
child, very like her, only with black hair. Papa
once begged me to be kind to her if I ever met her.

FOUND AT LAST. 361

for his sake. "What could I do ? I could not ask
her to come to us, for mamma will not hear her
mentioned, and has for years burned all her letters
unanswered. Once or twice I arranged a meeting
with her in the Louvre; then she was taken ill, and
could not go out, and wanted to see me. I went
to see her without letting mamma know. It was
not right, but — papa begged me to be kind to
her " Her large, dark eyes look at him help-
less and imploring.

" Poor child ! your kind heart was sorely tried,"
he murmurs, very gently.

" I am so glad to be able to tell some one all about
it," she confesses: she has q[uite forgotten her ter-
rible, disgraceful trial, in the child-like sensation of
delightful security with which Rohritz always in-
spires her. The tears still shine upon 'her cheeks,
but her eyes are dry. She tries to fasten the brace-
let on her wrist; Eohritz kneels down beside her
to help her ; suddenly he possesses himself of the
bracelet.

" Stella," he whispers, softly and very tenderly,
" there is no denying that you are verj' careless
with your happiness. Let me keep it for you : it
will be safer with me than with you."

She looks at him, without comprehending; she
is only aware of a sudden overwhelming delight, —
svhy, she hardly knows.

" Stella, my darling, my treasure, could you con-

Q 31

362 ERLACB COURT.

sent to marry me ? — could you learn to enjoy life
at my side ?"

" Learn to enjoy ?" she repeats, with a smile that
is instantly so deeply graven in his heart that he
remembers it all his life afterwards. "Learn to en-
joy ?" She puts out her hands towards him ; hut
just as he is about to clasp her to his heart
she withdraws them, trembling, and turns pale.
" "Would you marry a girl at whom all Paris will
point a scornful finger to-morrow ?" she sobs.

" Point a scornful finger at my betrothed ?" he
cries, indignantly. " Have no fear, Stella; I know
the world better than you do : that finger will be
pointed at the worthless woman whose wounded
vanity invented the monstrous slander. There is
still some esprit de corps among the angels. Those,
in heaven do not permit evil to be wrought against
their earthly sisters. One kiss, Stella, my star, my
sunshine, my own darling."

For an instant she hesitates, then shyly touches
his temple with her soft warm lips.

" One upon jour gray hair," she murmurs.

They suddenly hear an approaching footstep.
Eohritz starts to his feet, but it is only his brother,
who says, as he advances towards them, —

" "Where the deuce are you hiding, Edgar ? My
wife is frantic with impatience."

" Ther^se must be merciful," Edgar replies, with
a smile. " "When for once one finds the flower of

FOUND AT LAST. 363

happiness in his pathway, one cannot say, ' I have
no time to pluck you ; my sister-in-law is waiting
for me.' "

"Aha!" Edmund exclaims, with a low bow.
" Hm ! Ther^se will be vexed because I was right,
and not she; but I rejoice with all my heart, — not
because I was right, but because I could wish you
no better fortune in this world."

*******

Stella's betrothal to Edgar is now a week old.
Ther^se was vexed at first at her own want of
penetration, but it was an irritation soon soothed.
She is absorbed in providing the most exquisite
trousseau that money and taste combined can pro-
cure in Paris.

Zino, too, was vexed, first that Stella should have
been subjected to annoyance on his account, and in
the second place because his temporary lameness
prevented his challenging de Hauterive. " It was
tragic enough not to be able to dance the cotillon
with our star, but not to be able to fight for the
star is intolerable."

Thus Capito declares in a long congratulatory
epistle to Edgar, adding, in a postscript, " The
ladies in whose honour certain pictures were turned,
as you lately observed, with their faces to the wall,
were the Lipinskis, mother and daughter. I am
betrothed to ISCatalie."

The Princess Oblonsky has left Paris for Naples ;

364 ERLACH COURT.

the Fuhrwesen accompanied her. Monsieur de
Hauterive is said to have followed her. Stasy is
left behind in Paris, where she meditates sadly
upon the ingratitude of human nature. She is no
longer an ardent admirer of the Oblonsky.

And the lovers ?

The scene is the little drawing-room with the
blue furniture and bright carpet at the " Three
Negroes." The Baroness is sitting at her writing-
table, scribbling away with all her wonted energy
at something or other which is never to be finished;
the floor around her is strewn with torn and crum-
pled sheets of paper.

From without come the sound of heavy and light
wheels, the echo of heavy and light footsteps. But
through all the noise of the streets is heard a dreamy,
monotonous murmur, the slow drip of melting snow.
A thaw has set in, and the water is dripping from
the roofs. Sometimes the Baroness pauses in her
writing and listens. There is something strangely
disturbing to her in the simple sound : she does not
clearly catch what the water-drops tell her ; she no
longer understands their speech.

Beside the fire sit Edgar and Stella. His left arm
is in a sling. In the duel with small-swords which
took place a couple of days after the Fanes' ball
he received a slight wound. Therefore there is an
admixture of grateful pity in Stella's tenderness for
him. They are sitting, hand clasped in hand, de-

FOUND AT LAST. 365

vising schemes and building airy castles for the
future, — the long, fair future.

" One question more, my darling," Rohritz whis-
pers to his beautiful betrothed, who still conducts
herself rather shyly towards him. " How do you
mean to arrange your life ?"

" How do I mean — have I any decision to
make ?"

" Indeed you have, dearest," he says, smiling.
" My part in life is to see you happy."

" How good and dear you are to me !" Stella
murmurs. " How could you torment me so long,
— so long ?"

" Do you suppose I was happy the while, dear
love?" he whispers. Her reproach touches him
more nearly than she thinks. How could he hesi-
tate so long, is the question he now puts to himself.
What has he to offer her, he with his weary,
doubting heart, in exchange for her pure, fresh,
untouched wealth of feeling? "But to return
to my question," he begins afresh. " "Will you
live eight months in society and four months in
the country? — or just the other way?"

" Just the other way, if I may."

" Jack Leskjewitsch wrote me at the close of his
Qote of congratulation — the most cordial of any
which I have had yet — that his wife wishes to sell
Erlach Court, and thus deprive him of all tempta-
tion to retire for a second time to that Capua from
81*

366 ERLACH COURT.

a military life. Shall I buy Erlach Court for you,
Stella, — for you ? — for your special property ?"

" It would be delightful," she murmurs.

"Let us be married, then, here in Paris at the
embassy, and meanwhile have everything in readi-
ness for us at Erlach Court. "We can then make a
tour through southern France to our home for our
wedding journey."

But Stella shakes her head : " No, our wedding
journey must be to Zalow, to visit papa's grave.
You see, when he gave me the four-leaved clover
that you have round your neck now he said, ' And
if ever Heaven sends you some great joy, say to
yourself that your poor father prayed the dear God
that it might fall to your share !' So I must go to
him first to thank him : do you not see V

Edgar nods. Then, looking at the girl almost
mournfully, he says, —

" Is the joy really so great, my darling ?"

She makes no reply in words, but gently, almost
timidly, she puts her rounded arm about him and
leans her head on his breast.

Meanwhile, the Baroness looks round. 'Tis
strange how the monotonous melody of the falling
water-drops interferes with her work. A kind of
wondering melancholy possesses her at sight of the
lovers : she turns away her head and lays her pen
aside.

FOUND AT LAST. 367

" The world was all before them where to choose
their place of rest, and Providence their guide,"
she murmurs to herself. " 'Tis strange how well
the words suit the beginning of every young mar-
riage. And yet they are the last words of ' Para-
dise Lost.' "

THE END.

Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.

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Ohio State Journal.

EDGAR C. BLUM.

Bertha Laycourt. i2mo, cloth, S1.25.

*' It is a book suitable for any household ; interesting and instructive for all
classes of readers, moral in tone, beautiful in language." — Williams^ort
Republican.

PETER BOYLSTON.

John Char&xes. A Tale of the Civil War in America.

i2mo, cloth, $\.it,.
" * John Charixes' is called a tale of the civil war in America, by Peter
Eoylston, It is very well understood, however, from internal evidence, that
the story is the work of the celebrated lawyer and jurist, George Ticknor
Curtis, now a man approaching the limit of three score years and ten, and still
in his intellectual vigor capable of giving to the world the result of his long ex-
perience of life. No one who knows Mr. Curds could doubt that the views of
society, poUtics, and religion expressed in this novel are his." — Hartford
Courant.

CHARLOTTE BRONTfe.

Brontl Novels. Library Edition. Large crown 8vo. Per

volume, ;?I.50. Per set, 7 volumes, $10.50.
Handy Edition. Each containing a Frontispiece. l6mo.

Per volume: half cloth, 5° cents; half morocco, $I.oo.

Complete in Sets of 7 volumes: half cloth, $3.50; half

morocco, $7.00.

PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.

CHAPLAIN JAMES J. KANE, U.S.N.

Ilian ; or, The Curse of the Old South Church, tzmo,

cloth, ;(Si.25.

" This is a book worthy of more than passing notice. The tale is absorb-
ingly interesting, the glimpses of Northern and Southern social life are evidently
given by one who knows, and the naval episodes are almost worthy of Clark
Russell himself. — New York Truth. ,

CAPT. CHARLES KING, U.S.A.

Laramie ; or, the Queen of Bedlam. A Story of the Sioux

War of 1876. izmo, cloth, $1.00.
The Colonel's Daughter; or. Winning His Spurs, izmo,

cloth, JSI.Z5.
Marion's Faith, izmo, cloth, $1.25.
Kitty's Conquest. l6mo, cloth, ;Jl.oo.
The Deserter, and From the Ranks. (No. i oi American

Novel Series.) Square izmo, cloth, Jgl.oo. Paper, 50

cents.

" Captain King has caught the true spirit of the American novel, for he has
endowed his work fully and freely with the dash, vigor, breeziness, bravery,
tenderness, and truth which are recognized throughout the world as our national
characteristics. Captain King's narrative work is singularly fascinating." —
Si. Iajuis Republic.

MRS. E. LYNN LINTON.

Patricia Kemball. izmo, cloth, $\.2$.

The Atonement of Learn Dundas. Illustrated. 8vo,

cloth, $1.25.
The World Well Lost. Illustrated. 8vo, cloth, ijli.zs.

" Mrs. Linton's stories are vigorous, brilliant, and refined in style and
dramatic effect. She is not only an able writer, but she is a deep thinker as
well." — Boston Gazette.

ANNIE BLISS McCONNELL.

Half Married, izmo, cloth, ^11.25.

" A lively story of military and civil life. The heroine is a typical soldier's
daughter of the United States army, and we become curiously attached to her.
The pages sparkle with humorous selections and sprightly remarks."— /'Ai'/a-
delphia Led^r.

PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.

VIRGINIUS DABNEY.

The Story of Don Miff, as Told by his Friend John

Bouche Whacker. i2mo, cloth, S1.50.
Gold That Did Not Glitter, izmo, cloth, $1.00.

*' This is a very original and interesting boolc. It is hard to find a page
that does not arrest attention by some strilcing thought or odd conceit, some
flash of wit, or what is better still a delicious waggery, and when the attention
is thus arrested it is hard to lay the volume down." — Baltimore American.

CHARLES DICKENS.

The Standard Edition. Profusely .illustrated. 8vo, cloth,

per volume, jf2.5o. Complete sets, 30 volumes, cloth, $60.00.
Library Edition. l2mo. With the Original Illustrations.

30 volumes. In sets. Cloth, $45 .00.
Handy Edition. 32 volumes. l6mo. Per volume, half

cloth, 50 cents. Half morocco, $1.00.
Diamond Edition. Complete in 14 volumes. Square l8mo.

Cloth, per set, $lo.oo. Paper, per volume, 35 cents.

Same in 7 volumes, cloth, $'J.yt.
People's Edition. 15 volumes. l2mo, cloth, $15.00.

"DUCHESS" NOVELS.

i6mo, uniform style, half cloth, per volume, 50 cents.
Paper, 25 cents.

Phyllis. Mrs. Geoffrey.

Molly Bavtrn. Pertia.

Airy Fairy Lilian. Leys, Lord Berresford, and

Beauty's Daughters. other Stories.

Faith and Unfaith. Rossmoyne.

Doris. A Mental Struggle.

"O Tender Dolores." Lady Valworth's Diamonds.

A Maiden All Forlorn. Lady Branksmere.

In Durance Vile. A Modern Circe.

The Duchess. The Honourable Mrs. Ver-

Marvel. eker.

Jerry, and other Stories. Under-Currents.
" In all her stories the ■ Duchess' shows the same excellent qualities. She
is bright, spirited, vivacious, and invents a dramatic situation capitally. She
begins at you with so much dash and sparkle that you find yourself in quite a
glow at having found a genius." — Iowa Gate City.